Music and Corruption

Lord Morrow led her to his study after dinner and he already had ledgers stacked on one side his desk, closing the door quietly behind them. A fire was crackling in the fireplace, spreading a comforting warmth and a bright, golden glow.

"I thought we could get started with an overview of my territory," he said and Adelia stepped up beside him as he spread out a map. The Wilds were large, Adelia had already known that, but it was another thing entirely every time she saw it put onto paper like this.

Lord Morrow was in control of a bigger part of it than she had thought at first and when she asked about the other territories, he was happy to point out the land other warlords governed. It seemed that the various warlord territories were roughly about the same size and to her surprise, some of the warlords were women.

"I could take you with me to our next meeting, but I have to warn you, they're all unique characters," Lord Morrow said with a wry little smile. "I'd say I'm one of the most mellow ones among them."

Considering that, allegedly, one of the warlords was only behaving because of his threats, Adelia felt a bit reluctant to meet the rest, but she'd do her duty as his wife. Even if she was only his wife on paper and that too could change with nothing but a signature on her end.

When he showed her the ledgers next, he pulled up a second chair beside his and their knees brushed briefly as they sat down.

The first thing Adelia learned was that the taxes people paid were rather fair and the money was actually largely put back into his territory. As Lord Morrow showed her the very thoroughly documented payments, she started to see what the money was used for.

Villages were supported to grow, road maintenance was another big task and trade was going strong because of it. It was clear to see that Lord Morrow wasn't interested in making himself richer, he used the money he collected as taxes to build up the people he was looking after and ensure his staff was well paid and the keep remained well taken care of.

Adelia felt the strangest kind of quiet excitement at that. There was a sudden bubble of hope growing bigger and bigger within her the more Lord Morrow showed and explained to her. He sounded quite satisfied about the progress of his land and off-handedly mentioned that he was currently in the process of building more schools and healing temples.

No other noble in power would have done such a thing. At least, not to Adelia's knowledge. They were too busy with constant schemes and one-upping each other, with the amassing of power in order to get more of it. They often forgot to be considerate of others, or they simply didn't care.

Of course nobility looked after their lands, as well, but Adelia knew most of them didn't see people. They just saw numbers and the gold they could wring from them, the wealth they could gain.

"I didn't see any beggars in Ravenburg," she pointed out when Lord Morrow set the most recent ledger aside and he glanced at her, eyes dark like a lake at night. But not unkind.

A mild smile made the corners of his eyes crinkle faintly. "There aren't," he said, a quiet but firm pride in his voice. "We built a housing home for them around two years after I took over. They get care there, food and healing and when they're ready to pick their lives back up, they get support for those endeavors, as well."

That was utterly unheard of where Adelia came from and she found herself gripped with a sudden, fierce appreciation for what he was doing. She was only aware of the fact that a smile had appeared on her face when his own widened a little, almost revealing a hint of his teeth.

"It seems you're in agreement with me," he said, sounding pleased and his voice dipped into something slightly unyielding as he said, "No one gets left behind as long as I have a say in it." She couldn't have agreed more with that sentiment.

"Is Ravenburg the only place with housing homes?" she asked and he shook his head and reached for a different ledger altogether.

Lord Morrow showed her where else and how he had improved the living conditions of his people, putting resources into their education and welfare, strengthening villages, towns and the five other cities in his lands.

Whenever he had lacked the coin to straight up pay for things, he had come up with other creative ways to make things work. Healers, doctors and herbalists got to own the building they worked and lived in after seven years of service and they could cut that time down by taking in apprentices and offering their aid for free to those with no money.

Some doctors had come to own their clinics within three years with how much they had done for the community they had worked for. And from what Adelia could tell, they kept doing it afterwards even with no more promised gain. The connections they had forged with everyone around them seemed to be motivation and reward enough.

As they moved on to other projects he had seen to over the past years, Lord Morrow readily and at times even eagerly answered all her questions. There was an almost boyish joy to him, his smile losing its mildness and almost revealing a hint of his teeth here and there, as he went over how he had turned things around for his lands after taking over.

Housing prices had a limit to ensure that people could afford to live somewhere and those who offered their aid to their communities in various ways benefited from it in different ways. Those who asked for little rent from their tenants got to ask the town they lived in to pay for repairs for the house, paid for by the taxes Lord Morrow collected and set aside for various projects.

Healing temples had become a popular place for doctors and herbalists to work together so they had more space to care for more ill folk. It had the benefit that sicknesses could be stopped before they turned into plagues, ravaging the populace.

Adelia saw the numbers and some added, scrawled notes for improvements or adjustments beside them, but she could tell that his people must've noticed the change as well.

It became clear in the festivals that were held more and more often over the years, now that people had the resources to celebrate. It showed in the low death counts across his lands, carefully documented in another ledger.

It showed in the fact that he was given more and more tribute over the years, tribute he mostly fed back into his people, bolstering them up further. His people had grown wealthier and in turn could pay more taxes, which meant their conditions kept improving. A cycle of goodness, instead of greed.

He was a very fair lord, she thought as she sat back, Lord Morrow waiting for her verdict. No, more than fair, he was a good lord. His law was just and from the documented court cases she had peeked at just now, he ensured it was upheld for everyone, no matter if they were farmers or rich merchants.

This was more than Adelia had dreamed of when she had thought about marrying Tirn and even then she had known that she wouldn't be able to do even half as much as what Lord Morrow had done. With plenty of bullheadedness and hard work, she was sure, to change things the way he had.

This was... this was more than what she would have been allowed to achieve as Tirn's wife and it looked like Lord Morrow had no intentions of stopping.

"I want to help," she said, all her quiet dreams about making things better spilling forth to flood her mind and squeeze her heart. "In whatever ways I can. This is amazing."

When she looked at Lord Morrow, for the first time he smiled wide enough that it turned into a grin and showed his teeth, his dark eyes filled with excitable joy. Before seeing his ledgers and his dedication, is unmistakable care for his people, she would have been startled at the fangs she saw, but now that hardly mattered. No wonder his smiles were always so mild and restrained when his teeth looked like this.

For a brief moment, she wondered why he had fangs. Was it something he was born with, like Sera with her golden-green eyes? Or was it some sort of glamour he had gotten at one point and now he had to wait until the enchantment had run its course to get his teeth back to normal? Either way, she didn't feel confident enough to ask him about it.

She smiled back, however, a little hesitant but genuine. Maybe they were not a traditionally married couple, but that was alright. She didn't mind that, she just wanted a place here. To fulfill at least one or two of her dreams.

No wonder his people weren't scared of him if he had appeared out of the dark, had killed their oppressor and then had put relentless work into building them up. Into making them strong and healthy and happy. No wonder they trusted him like this.

And while a part of Adelia would remain a little wary still, would continue to wait for the moment when she finally toed the line that made his temper flare at last, that told her where she had to watch herself, she was feeling truly hopeful. He seemed to be a genuinely good, kind man, despite his bloody reputation.

"I'm often busy during the day," Lord Morrow said and got up to snag a rather thick book from his shelves. "Our laws and customs are written down in here, if you'd like, please read them. If you could help deal with any issues that arise while I'm preoccupied, I would be incredibly grateful. Lam has been handling them when possible in my absence, but he can't deal with everything. He will be at your service if you have need of him."

Adelia felt her heart skip a tiny beat as she accepted the book, his gloved fingertips briefly brushing hers. He still had those weirdly long nails, since she could feel them for a split second, hard and unyielding.

Her father would have never allowed her mother or her to take over any of his duties. They had been allowed to sit in as he listened to the plights of his people, as he passed his judgement and settled arguments that needed taking care of before they caused problems, but nothing more.

It was during one such audience that he had ordered a starving man's hand to be cut off for poaching.

When she had quietly, in a whisper so only he heard her, had tried to beg him to not do it, to aid the man and his family instead, he had made her walk outside with him and the guards and had made her watch. She'd never forget the man's shrieking screams, how his thin, trembling form had curled up over the stump as he had sobbed. She had quietly, in secret, sent money to him and his family, though she had hidden her identity just in case her father got wind of it.

Lord Morrow's expression turned more serious and she realized that some of her thoughts must've made her look pensive when she hadn't intended that in the slightest.

"I will be grateful for his aid," she answered hurriedly. The last thing she wanted was for Lord Morrow to take back his offer. "I will do my utmost best to do right by your people." She found herself pausing for a moment and added in a quieter voice, "I will not betray your trust or theirs."

Because he was willing to put his trust into her. While it was far from uncommon for married nobles to deal with the issues of governing their lands together, traditionally the wife's duty was to serve and council. The husband was the one in charge, the wife was the one who aided him where he needed her or where he felt indecisive.

Lord Morrow didn't truly know her, and yet it seemed he had a higher opinion of her than she had expected. He and Sorceress Iva had mentioned that he owed her, but she had no possible idea why that was the case. She hadn't even spoken to the man before he had approached her for a dance out of nowhere.

"I have faith that you won't," he said and glanced out the window. It was pitch-black outside, the heavy curtains drawn aside to allow a view to the now slowly waning moon. "But I have kept you long enough already, it's gotten quite late, you must be getting tired."

She didn't feel tired and he didn't seem to be exhausted either, but it was clear they were done here for the day. That was the moment she remembered something she had meant to ask and that had slipped her notice with all the things Lord Morrow had shown her.

As they sat down for dinner, Adelia hesitated for just a moment, before she took a quiet breath and decided to just ask where the missing books on monsters were. She still felt a little bite of nerves, for back home questioning her father would have gotten her a quelling look from her mother at best and a cutting answer from her father at worst.

But she had decided to push a little, to see how much patience her husband had, how much he meant it when he told her that the library was at her disposal.

"I have one more question, if you don't mind," Adelia found herself saying as they got up.

"Anytime," he answered, voice holding a calm, steady, quietly reassuring tone. "You can always ask anything you like."

"I have been looking for a book in the library that Steward Lambrecht said should be there," she said, carefully choosing her words. "I was unable to find it and I would like to know where it might be?"

Lord Morrow made a soft, understanding sound. "I see, I believe one of the staff might have borrowed it already. Give it a few days and it should resurface. If you'd like, we have a register up by the front door where you can note down what books you'd like to read next and then no one else will take it once it got returned."

That was a pretty good system and Adelia couldn't help but feel lighter at knowing that the library truly seemed to be open to anyone and everyone. It was rather reassuring, she had to admit.

"If you'd like, we can meet again tomorrow?" he offered as he accompanied her to the door and Adelia found herself offering him a quick nod in return.

"I would like that," she answered and he lightly clapped his hands together with a smile.

"Wonderful, I'll come seek you out around the same time as today. Have a good night, Adelia."

"You as well," she answered and he closed the door, leaving her alone in the hallway with a large book cradled in her arms.

She returned to her rooms, feeling lighter than before. She got started on the book right away, the monster books set aside and forgotten for the moment.

*.*.*

Adelia jerked awake with a groan, blinking blearily as she realized she had fallen asleep with the book of laws on her chest. It was still dark out and for a moment she had no idea what had woken her, when she heard it: the sound of less than skilled violin playing.

Actually and quite frankly, it was kind of horrible violin playing.

She sat up in her fireside chair, her back cracking and her neck aching. As comfortably and cushy as the chair was, it was not meant for sleeping in. The fire had burnt down to faintly glimmering embers and it was pitch dark in her rooms. A glance out the windows showed that the sky was still dark as well.

Getting to her feet she set the book aside on a small table beside her chair and walked over to the windows, peering outside. The fog had crawled high and far once more, making it impossible to see much below, aside from the dim glow of lanterns and torches and the faintest hint of the outline of buildings they illuminated.

The violin playing remained quite... screechy. Was this what Ada and Sorceress Iva had meant when they had mentioned that Lord Morrow was not particularly skilled at playing the instrument?

It did, genuinely, sound like he was in need of lessons. Wincing, Adelia stepped back from the window, smoothing down the wrinkles of the dress she had slept in. She was still a little tired, but now that she was awake, she found she was too thirsty to go back to sleep.

Drinking some water, she undid the laces of her dress to take it off and she was about to put on her nightshift and crawl into bed to try and ignore the sound of 'music' outside, when her stomach growled.

It growled intensely enough, in fact, to briefly make her nauseous. Adelia paused for just a moment, before she went and grabbed a new dress and freshened up. The kitchen staff hopefully wouldn't mind if she asked for a bite to eat this early and maybe, by the time she was back, Lord Morrow was done with playing.

The keep laid silent and chill-cold beyond her door and she was glad for the bracelet Sorceress Iva had given her, for it kept the chill from seeping into her flesh and bones, sapping away her warmth.

The kitchen was rather lively when she arrived, with dough being kneaded and bread being baked and people had already started a simmering pot of oatmeal for breakfast.

"You're up pretty early, my lady," Ada called out. "Did Morrow wake you with his tone-deafness?"

"It was honestly for the best, I had fallen asleep while reading," Adelia admitted. "Does he play often?"

"Every other night or so," one of the bakers answered with a snort. "It started out as sheer spite because one of his warlord friends challenged him, but now he's actually determined to learn."

"It's not easy finding teachers who are available at these hours," Ada sighed. "It will be easier in the coming winter months, when he has more time for himself during the day. We'll just have to endure until then."

Adelia had played the violin for a time as part of her education as a noble lady. Her father had almost put her to the piano, but her mother had managed to point out that violins were rather in fashion at the moment, a rare gleam of eagerness in her eyes.

Her father had been rather displeased when the tutor had admitted that, while Adelia was a dutiful student, she was not particularly talented in the musical arts. She was doing well, but she wasn't considered gifted. Her mother had hidden her disappointment well, but Adelia had still seen it shimmering in her eyes.

Her father had sent the tutor on his way, saying that he would not waste money if he didn't have to, that Adelia ought to learn other things, though he also told her to keep practicing what she had learned so the money wasn't completely wasted, either.

He had looked quite sour when, only a handful of years later, making music became so popular among nobility, they all bragged about their musically gifted children, who played for their parents and guests during long conversations.

While Adelia had been able to perform a few pieces well, she hadn't been good enough to keep up with the skillful, extravagant playing of her peers, who had displayed a new beautiful piece of music every time they had shown up at court.

Since it had also been impossible to catch up with the others in just a mere handful of weeks, to become good enough to be shown off, her father hadn't bothered to rehire her teacher again.

Despite demanding she keep practicing what she knew, he never let her perform where others could see. In his eyes, the only indignity greater than having a child who didn't play at all, was a daughter who played badly.

Instead, he had bragged about her talent for drawing, which other noble children couldn't do at all and that had balanced things out again, especially when painting became more fashionable than music two years ago.

As Adelia was plied with food and drawn into the lively chatter of the staff, she couldn't help but think of her mother's well hidden disappointment. That sad shine that had briefly reached her eyes and she remembered once walking in on her mother playing the violin, the melody gentle and soft and heart-aching.

Her mother never talked about her talent for the instrument and Adelia genuinely had no idea if her father even knew about it. If he did, he likely didn't care.

When she returned to her rooms, she found herself sitting down at her writing desk.

Adelia hadn't thought that she'd write her parents much, if at all, especially after everything that had happened, but she penned a letter to her mother, polite and carefully worded in case her father read it. For all that her mother never disagreed with her father, she also didn't tell him anything the few times Adelia had confided in her when she had been younger.

Her mother had been downright kind in those moments, when all the lessons and expectations had overwhelmed Adelia. Still, all that love and hidden kindness had not been enough for her mother to speak up for her. Not when her father had killed her horse and not when her father wanted to marry her off to Lord Emmertal.

In a way, her letter reflected that. Adelia requested to be sent the teaching materials she had first gotten upon learning how to play the violin. She knew her parents still had it stashed away somewhere, for they had paid for it and her father never threw knowledge away, even if he himself could not make use of it.

She mentioned nothing else, not how she was doing or what the Wilds were like nor did she ask how her parents were doing. They had lost their right to such care and concern when they had shown what she and her life were worth to them. They could do something for her, now, and that was the extent of her desire to contact her mother.

Lord Morrow was long done with his violin practice by the time she folded the letter and rooted through her things for something that had belonged to her mother. Instead of seeking out Steward Lambrecht to have the letter sent with a courier, she waited until it grew late enough in the morning that she could knock at Sorceress Iva's door.

The woman opened after a moment, dressed in gold and green and looking as radiant as a forest spirit in stories of old, her long, braided hair decorated with golden clasps and golden, emerald studded pins and delicate golden butterflies.

"I hope I'm not bothering you at this hour," Adelia said with a little curtsy and Sorceress Iva laughed.

"Believe me, everyone is awake whenever our esteemed warlord once again proves that he's not great at everything he does," the sorceress answered with an amused grin. "He's lucky that I'm an early riser and I have some experiments that need careful watching or I would have spelled that violin of his silent. What can I help you with?"

"Would it be possible to deliver this letter to my mother sometime this day?" Adelia asked, offering the letter in question. She would have loved to send her friends letters this way, as well, but she had no items of theirs with her that the sorceress could use. Not yet, in any case.

"Certainly," Sorceress Iva said, accepting the letter. "Do you have something of your mother's?"

Adelia offered a very fine, delicately made shawl. "She made it herself." One of the few things her mother had created that she hadn't kept for herself. It had been a wedding gift instead. It was, objectively, a beautiful piece of craftsmanship and yet Adelia didn't know if she wanted it back or not. If she wanted a piece of her parents, made by her parents, with her.

"That's good, handmade things always retain some of the creator's energy," Sorceress Iva said, taking the shawl. She wrapped it around the letter and with a faint hum of magic in the air, that felt like gentle, tickling warmth, it popped out of existence. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, thank you very much for your time," Adelia said with another polite curtsy and Sorceress Iva waved her off, hiding a little yawn behind her hand.

Adelia was about to turn away, when she paused. "There might be one thing, if you are willing to indulge me," she said and the sorceress raised a curious brow. "How does magic work?"

At this the sorceress grinned and waved her inside. "Let me show you," she said. "And while you're here, you can lend me a hand."

Adelia spent the morning and noon learning gracious plenty. While she held no magic of her own and could not understand how spells were woven, rune work was another thing entirely.

It reminded her starkly of clockwork and she picked it up quickly, once Sorceress Iva taught her how the various elements came together, what was needed to connect them and how the ever-changeable alignment brought different results.

Like gears locking together to make things run, translating into motion, runes directed the flow of magic and what shape it took.

When they parted ways, Sorceress Iva lent her books on rune work and sigil crafting, along with an invitation to drop by again soon if she wanted to chat and Adelia left, a spring in her step and a smile on her face.

She returned to her rooms and had to force herself to set the books down for now, to instead continue studying the laws of the Wilds. She soon lost track of time, until Steward Lambrecht knocked on her door and asked if she would like to join him while he took care of some matters. She gladly accepted.

That evening, before dinner, Sorceress Iva sent a servant with a parcel that had been sent by her mother. Adelia was surprised that her mother had paid a mage for their services instead of sending everything by post. Opening the parcel, she found the shawl her mother had made wrapped around a thick stack of papers.

A letter in a fine, delicate hand awaited her at the very top and Adelia stared at it in surprise. Her mother had never been particularly talkative, choosing her words carefully and often fading into the background whenever Father was around. There had been days when her mother hadn't spoken at all, especially when her father had been in certain moods.

This was probably the most her mother had ever talked at once, explaining in downright passionate detail how she could teach someone to play the violin, how to read the notes on the accompanied music sheets in case she had forgotten and how to play those notes as well.

Adelia sat at her desk for a long minute, staring at the letter and realizing that she hadn't really known her mother much at all. She had grown up with her and hadn't once known or realized just how much her mother loved music, how much she loved making it.

Even if the language her mother used in the letter was as restrained and carefully chosen as ever, there was quiet passion pouring off the pages. The concern towards the end of the letter, when her mother wished her well and a prosperous future and that she was welcome to write again any time in the future.

Adelia didn't know what to do with that or with the lingering bitterness of betrayal and pain in her chest. How could her mother wish her well when she had been willing to hand her over to Lord Emmertal?

She set that part of the letter aside and rather focused on the first part, the love for music carefully written between delicately penned lines.

Did her father know this? Did her mother play for him in the evenings when they retired, or had he never heard a single tune her mother was capable of? Adelia knew she wouldn't get a straight answer from her parents if she asked, but it did make her wonder.

A knock at the door drew her from her thoughts and when she opened it, Lord Morrow awaited her with a dinner invitation. The sun had sunk almost completely below the horizon, leaving only a faint shimmer of light along the sky that would vanish quickly enough.

"I heard you play this morning," she said before they could leave and immediately there was an apologetic little grimace on his face. She quickly tacked on, "And if you don't mind, if it pleases you, I asked my mother to send me the pieces I used to learn from. I still know how to play those pieces, so I could teach you what I know, as well, if you'd like."

At this he blinked in surprise, before his entire expression seemed to brighten a little and he offered her a grateful, warm smile. "My dear Adelia, any help would be more than welcome and in the future, please don't hesitate to tell me if I wake you." His tone grew wry, but there was a soft little smile in the corners of his mouth still, as he added, "I'm used to the staff yelling at me to shut up."

Such a thing had been impossible to imagine back home, but Adelia was starting to think that, maybe, around here it wasn't so strange, after all. That Lord Morrow held the same respect for his people that they held for him.

She fetched the music sheets her mother had sent, along with the little book on guiding explanations for beginners. Lord Morrow accepted them with a gentle hand, skimming over the pages briefly before he glanced at her from below coal-dark lashes.

"If it's not too forward, I would gladly accept your help in teaching me," he said, an almost shy smile on his face. "If not, I entirely understand, playing instruments isn't for everyone and you must be busy enough already without me stealing more of your time."

Looking at him, Adelia thought that she could actually tell this man no and have her words, her choice, respected. That it was allowed to say no. It was that realization, that made her say yes.

They had a quick dinner together and Lord Morrow looked rather excited when a second violin was fetched from one of the storerooms of the keep and they got everything set up for the first piece she'd try to teach him.

Adelia remembered enough to guide him, though most of the melodies she was capable of playing were quite simple. Lord Morrow on the other hand couldn't play much at all. He hissed a quiet curse when he messed up once again, only to cast her an apologetic look afterwards. Adelia found herself hiding a surprised, amused noise behind her hand.

It was a quiet, soft giggle rather than actual laughter, but it still felt like her heart and soul grew lighter regardless. As though some kind of persistent tension fell away at long last. Lord Morrow smiled at her wide enough to reveal his fangs and she thought they weren't such a bad look, no matter why he had them.

They kept at it, as Lord Morrow stumbled through learning how to play his first piece and Adelia grew a bit more certain herself as she recalled her teacher's words more and more. By the end, they managed to play something together that actually didn't sound terrible.

"Would you like to do this again?" Lord Morrow asked as he accompanied her to the door of his office. There was a little pep in his step and for just a moment, Adelia could see the boy he must've been once, bright and curious and eager to learn. It was unexpectedly endearing. "We could play one day and go through my ledgers and over laws the other."

"That sounds quite lovely," Adelia said and meant it. "I wish you a good night, Rowan."

It still felt very strange to call him by his first name, but she was slowly getting used to it.

He swept into a playful bow. "Sweet dreams, my lady Adelia."

On her way back to her rooms she dropped by the library, but the shelf on monsters and creatures was still staggeringly empty. On her way out, she went through the ledger by the front door and used one of the spare pages around to note which books she'd like to read once they were returned.

Hopefully, that was sometime soon, though she didn't begrudge anyone the time they needed to finish reading the books in peace. Besides, truth be told, she had more than enough to read at the moment, so it was likely for the best she wasn't adding more to the pile.

When Adelia returned to her rooms, she realized that she was in high spirits despite feeling tired and a little smile was gracing her face.

The next morning, she woke to Lord Morrow playing downright decently as he practiced the piece she had taught him over and over. She felt brighter and more at ease than ever and there was a small pep in her steps for the entire day.

She was, in fact, in quite the good mood, right up until Steward Lambrecht approached her in the evening, just as the sun was setting, carrying with him some books and a letter. Her good mood evaporated like smoke, her heart getting doused with a sudden, startled alarm when she saw the titles of the books.

"Someone called Tirn Warren sent these for you," Steward Lambrecht said, holding them out to her, the letter carefully set atop. "My apologies, they came along with other well-wishing gifts and Master Rowan had opened them since they were adressed to him. These were within one such a package. Had we known the correspondence would include you, we wouldn't have opened it without you present. The letter has not been read."

It was still sealed shut, but Adelia barely cared about it at this moment, her heart squeezing nervously in quiet fear in her chest. She couldn't stop herself from remembering her father's fury when he caught her with the blacksmith, her horse gone forever and the kind man kicked out. The grief and pain that had followed, and the budding hatred that sometimes made her heart dark.

She remembered her father's anger as he had hissed at her to never do something unladylike, something he didn't approve of, ever again, unless she was willing to face the consequences of her actions.

Tirn had been the only one aside from Julie, Izabel, and Katrina who had known about her love for everything and anything clockwork. The only one aside from her maid and friends who hadn't minded her hobby, though she hadn't told him everything about it, either. He thought she was only interested in making toys and never anything more.

Still, she had thought Tirn had understood how dangerous it could be for her, if her parents found out, or someone told on her. He had certainly known of her father's rage enough to keep her secrets.

She had thought Tirn, therefore, knew how very few men among the nobles even tolerated women doing what the men did. How often she had overheard women whispering among themselves, cautioning each other into quietness and gentleness and holding back.

Her own mother had instilled restraint within her. To never overshadow, to never disobey, to never take what the gentry wanted for themselves away from them.

Clockwork creations were getting more and more popular and men prided themselves on their ingenuity and hard work. It was not a field women were welcome in.

And now Lord Morrow had seen these books, as had his faithful right hand, so there was no way to hide it. There was no way to at least try to beg Steward Lambrecht to not tell anyone about it.

Even though Lord Morrow had been nothing but kind so far, Adelia feared that this might be where he drew the line. That he'd tell her it would be best to focus on more appropriate hobbies and interests.

It was one thing to let her do her wifely duties as other nobles might, handling the correspondence and giving advice on matters and even helping out while he was busy. It was quite another for Adelia to have hobbies that would get her frowns at best and derisive words at worst in polite company. That might put her on even footing with the men around her.

For all of Lord Morrow's kindness and welcome, she was still, quietly and secretly, waiting for when she finally found the end of his patience and generosity. That she'd suddenly discover the very thing that would make his temper flare.

"Thank you," Adelia said, keeping hold of herself and her decorum through long years of practice under her father's stern eyes, nerves making her gut clench all the while. "I hadn't known these would be sent."

"We can always shelve them in the library if they weren't wanted," Steward Lambrecht offered and she forced a smile on her face.

"Let me check them first." She didn't want to hand the books over, but if this was an olive branch, a polite offer to sweep this incident under the rug and never speak of it again, then she would take it, no matter how much she might wish to keep those books herself.

"Certainly, let me know what you decide," Steward Lambrecht said with a little bow. "Please excuse me."

He left and Adelia closed the door, carefully setting the books down before she downright ripped the letter open. She skimmed over the pleasantries; Tirn wished her well and hoped she liked her new home, that he was sorry – that absolute prat – and then she paused.

He said he had sent his gifts because he was glad she could freely follow her hobby now. That she no longer had to hide from her butt-wart of a father since her husband was in charge now.

Staring at the letter she realized that Tirn wasn't just a little self-absorbed, a little lazy, a little ignorant and uncaring. He absolutely knew and understood nothing. Adelia felt so upset she wished she could magically reach across the entire distance between their homes to throttle him.

Tossing the letter onto the table was nowhere near satisfying enough and Adelia had no idea what to do with the bitter betrayal, the downright sad, painful anger, that gripped her bones. Tirn had been one of her best friends for years, a co-conspirator against her cold parents, her cruel father.

She had told him nearly everything, because when she had made him promise not to tell anyone, he had always kept his mouth shut. She had thought that he had understood the careful maneuvering she had to do, that there were few people she knew she could speak openly with.

The court was a pit of vipers, that much he had known, that much his father had taught him well, but apparently, that was where his understanding of the world ended.

She sat down and penned a polite but scathing letter to someone who was no longer one of her best friends. Her frustrations, if not her worries, aired, she then penned a kinder, though still cool letter to his wife, Lady Damira.

As much as she blamed Tirn for breaking up their engagement and leaving her with uncertainty – with an engagement to Lord Emmertal that had only not taken place because of Lord Morrow – she found she wasn't too fond of Lady Damira, either.

Lady Damira had known about their engagement, all of the nobility did, it had been declared back when they had been children, after all. Lady Damira, too, had made a choice when she had let Tirn charm her into bed.

Still, Lady Damira ought to know just what kind of moron she had gotten married to, if only so she could keep him in check. Tirn was kind, despite all his faults, and he'd never knowingly mistreat his spouse, children or his staff. Lady Damira did not have anything to fear when she spoke openly and frankly with him.

If Tirn listened or not was another matter entirely, but he was, considering the men Adelia knew, rather safe. A fool and a moron and utterly ignorant, but not cruel. Not intentionally. Even the books he had so thoughtlessly sent along with the other gifts had been given because he knew of her love for clockwork designs.

A knock at the door made her jolt and a quick glance at the windows showed that it was fully dark outside now. She could take a very educated guess about who had just shown up.

She took a deep breath to collect herself, smoothed down her skirts and opened the door with a polite smile carefully plastered onto her face. Adelia had no idea what Lord Morrow was going to say to her, or what mood to expect. He offered one of his usual, mild smiles in return when their gazes met.

"Would you join me for dinner?" he asked, as polite as ever and, like before, Adelia accepted with a little curtsy, relieved that his mood seemed to be as good as ever.

"You don't have to always do that if you don't want to," he said as he stepped aside and she joined him out in the hallway. It was only when he glanced past her as she closed the door that she realized the books were still on the desk, easy to see.

"I didn't know you were interested in the art of clockwork creations," Lord Morrow said and her mouth felt dust dry. He offered another small, mild smile. "If you need any other books or you require tools and materials, don't hesitate to let me or Lam know."

She must've stared or must've taken too long to answer in her surprise, for he paused and a small, concerned furrow appeared between his brows. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes," Adelia hurried to reassure him. "Everything is well." Was it? She had no idea how to figure out his opinion on the matter of her interests and he looked back at her, puzzled and bemused.

She shouldn't even have to figure it out, a part of her hissed. The part of her that hated having to always thread carefully, to watch her tone and her words and how she moved. That hated having to hide what she loved for fear of what could be done to her if someone disapproved, when others could practice their talents openly.

"Good, that's good," he said and things suddenly felt unexpectedly awkward between them. He cleared his throat. "I do not wish to overstep but... well, you seem a little upset?"

Adelia had no idea how to answer, practiced platitudes already spilling forth when Lord Morrow took a deep breath and gently interrupted her.

"Correct me if I am wrong, but it feels like you keep fearing my responses," he said, slow and measured in a way that told her he was very carefully choosing his words. "I hope you know that you don't have to. That I'd be glad to know more about you and the things you enjoy. How to make you happy."

His eyes seemed even darker than usual, his gaze making it impossible to look away. His voice was softer, quieter now, but no less intense as he added, "I know not what experiences you had, what people you met, but I will prove myself to you. Won't you tell me what weighs on your mind?"

Adelia was silent for a long second, before she carefully formulated an answer, "My interest in clockwork designs is not an issue?"

There was something sharper and darker suddenly surrounding him, like an air of quiet danger. "My dear lady Adelia, you will never have to ask my opinion on your interests. I'm... hm, correct me if I am wrong, but I'm starting to get the impression that you have grown up with numerous... restrictions."

He said the last word like he was trying to be delicate but would have liked to be more direct. Adelia found she rather appreciated his attempts to be tactful, it was a little grounding in this conversation that was not going at all like she had expected.

"I am at your disposal," she answered, just like her mother had said numerous times to her father, especially when her father had started to get angry or frustrated about something.

Lord Morrow took a deep breath. "You are not." For all that his words were very clearly said, there was a soft undertone that kept them from becoming sharp. "You are your own person and I wish to meet that person. I wish to one day earn enough of your trust to be invited beyond your polite facade."

He exhaled and gentled, the dangerous edge around him easing away. "Build yourself a clockwork castle if you wish, I will gladly support you every step of the way."

He sounded like he meant it. Adelia swallowed and her fingers fiddled with each other, something she wouldn't have allowed herself to do had she been around her parents. After a moment she managed to say, "My father had clear opinions on women's work."

Lord Morrow scoffed. "Utter nonsense. He sounds like a narrow-minded fool." His dark gaze held hers, calm and certain. "It's a good thing, then, that he doesn't have any power over you anymore, isn't it? Nor will anyone here control you or care about his drivel."

No one had ever spoken about her father like this, not even her friends who had always politely and quietly told her that they did not agree with her father's harsh hand.

Adelia couldn't stop the surprised little giggle that escaped her had she wanted to. It was born half of released stress and half because it was downright absurd to hear someone label her father's opinions as drivel.

Even if she, secretly and deep down, more often than not agreed with that sentiment, it was another thing entirely to say so out loud.

Lord Morrow's expression softened further and he offered her a mild smile. "You deserve to be happy. I do mean it, if you want anything, don't hesitate to approach myself or Lam. Shall we get dinner?"

"Certainly." Adelia felt lighter than before and when Lord Morrow offered his arm, she took it without hesitation, a small, relieved smile lingering on her lips.

As they walked, Lord Morrow talked about the letters he had received from her homeland and he asked her to look over them, since he found all that political doublespeak quite tedious. Their conversation flowed easily over dinner, far more than during previous evenings.

They were interrupted once when a servant brought a letter and Lord Morrow skimmed over it quickly, before holding it out to Adelia, his expression more solemn than before

"One of my fellow warlords will visit us tomorrow evening," he said while she accepted the letter, brows briefly rising at the neat if very flourish-y handwriting. "His name is Ivan and I have to warn you, this man is deathly allergic of shirts."

He said it with such dust-dryness that she found herself quirking an amused little smile. "I shall keep my eyes above his clavicle, then," she answered primly and Lord Morrow laughed, fangs flashing briefly.

Looking down at the letter, she swiftly read the contents, only to find herself frowning a little now. Lord Ivan was going to visit because of the tragedy at the sun temple, and she asked, "Have you been able to find anything else out since we last spoke of this?"

Lord Morrow's expression darkened with frustration, his lips thinning for a moment. "I'm afraid not. I was unable to track down the origin of the device that exploded into crystals. No one knew where the priest had gotten it from or if maybe someone hid it in the temple."

"Might I take a look at it?" Adelia asked.

Lord Morrow nodded readily enough. "We can go together with Ivan, if you'd like." He paused. "And if you do not mind the nightmares that will take us there."

At her curious glance, he elaborated, "Nightmares are horses that died once before. They rise from their graves when they still have strong ties to someone alive or to kill their murderers. Often enough, it's both." His voice grew quieter. "They are creatures of death, while they themselves are undying. At least until hunters put them down."

She wondered if the strange, black horses with their gleaming red eyes were nightmares. "I won't mind," she said, though a part of her wondered what nightmares were like. Then again, she had already come face to face with a monster and that had been quite alright. Though, she still had no idea what monster exactly had landed on her balcony so many months ago.

Some people, on the other hand, had been worse to her than any creature she had met.

She handed the letter back to Lord Morrow and finished her meal so they could get started on their work.

Later, as Adelia sat in Lord Morrow's study, penning answers to the nobles who had written him, she glanced up. Lord Morrow was focused on his own paperwork, a contemplative furrow between his brows.

He fiddled with his gloves then and again, as if he was about to take them off before he caught himself and tugged them properly in place again. They seemed to bother him tonight when he hadn't paid much attention to them previously. The tips of the fingers seemed almost entirely worn through, as well.

Was he wearing them for her benefit? Or did he really have health issues and tonight he was in pain for one reason or another?

As she glanced at his hands, at the noticeably longer nails even with the fabric covering them, she realized that they both seemed to have things they worried about. He seemed to hide parts of himself, as well. She mulled over it for a moment, before she returned her attention to the letters.

Once they were done with the paperwork, Lord Morrow showed her the projects he was currently working on, asking for her input. They ended up discussing a few possible changes for harbor towns, and how to make trading more lucrative while also supporting local businesses.

It got later than either of them had intended and Lord Morrow ended up walking her back to her rooms as they wrapped up their discussion. When she noticed him fiddle with his gloves once more as they lapsed into a brief moment of silence, she found she didn't want him to hide. She wanted him to feel comfortable around her, too.

"I would not mind if you took your gloves off, if they bother you," she offered quietly and for just a breath, Lord Morrow stilled in a downright unnatural way.

"That's kind of you to offer," he said with a mild smile that did not reach his eyes. "But I'm fine."

"Of course." She was not going to push if he did not wish to talk about it. If it was an illness, or if he felt insecure about his hands, she did not wish to make him feel worse about himself. "I hope I didn't overstep."

"No, certainly not." He exhaled in nearly a sigh as they reached her door. "Please don't worry about stepping on my toes, I am quite hard to offend."

He said it with a wry smile, as though he had heard a number of insults in his life. Adelia couldn't help but frown a little, the idea of Lord Morrow waving off mean-spirited or downright awful comments sitting wrong with her.

"Well, if there is ever someone or something I can help you deal with, I would like to help," she offered and this time his smile reached his eyes.

"You handle my demons and I handle yours," he suggested downright softly and she had to admit that... perhaps that didn't sound so bad. So she gave him a smile and a nod in return. Lord Morrow smiled a little wider, before he added, "Though, let's hope we won't have to deal with terrible people often. We do deserve some piece of mind. Good night, Adelia."

"Good night, Rowan," she answered and this time his name came to her easier. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He bowed to her, playful but sincere, and left, his stride confident and quietly powerful. His steps made no sounds at all.

*.*.*

The next day passed quickly and Adelia was busy with her studies, doing her best to catch up on her missing knowledge on both the Wilds and its laws and she just barely remembered to get into the kitchen for her meals in time.

As the sun began to set, however, Steward Lambrecht sought her out. "Lord Ivan will arrive soon," he said, as prim and proper as ever, though there was a hint of warmth to him whenever he spoke to her. "Master Rowan will meet you in the entrance hall, if you still desire to join them on their excursion."

"I certainly do, thank you for informing me," she said and he offered a polite little dip of his head, before he left again.

Adelia took a moment to freshen up and ensure she was presentable, before she left her rooms. She was, truth be told, a little nervous to meet another warlord and she hoped she would make a good impression.

Lord Morrow was indeed waiting in the entrance hall and tonight he was as dressed down as Adelia had ever seen him. He merely wore black pants and a white buttoned-up shirt, his long hair held back by a bejeweled, big hair clip at the back of his head.

He turned towards her, a smile appearing on his face the moment their eyes met. "Good evening, my lady Adelia," he greeted her as she stepped to his side. "Ivan should be here any moment."

As soon as he said it, there was a knock against the front door. "Ah, punctual as ever," Lord Morrow mused. "Shall we?"

He offered his elbow and Adelia took it as they headed for the front double door, Lord Morrow pulling one half open easily.

Lord Ivan was a tall man with tanned skin and long, braided hair that gleamed like real gold, decorated with golden clasps and beads, his eyes blue like the sky. His gaze was sharp, a keen intelligence to him.

A sharp sense of power surrounded him, much like it did Lord Morrow. His stance was one of casual confidence, a strength to his presence that went beyond mere physical prowess. As though the essence of the sun itself had seeped into his flesh, warmth and vitality and something quietly deadly to him.

He wore a very long shawl around his shoulders, the ends trailing behind him on the cold stone, tattoos covering the flesh visible. His pants were long and cream colored and he was barefoot, appearing as though he wasn't even aware of the cold.

"Ivan," Lord Morrow said, sounding rather surprised. "You've added to your wardrobe, I see."

Lord Ivan sketched a playful bow, one end of the shawl flopping over his shoulder and he fumbled with it for a moment, breaking up the impression of intimidating warlord and instead he seemed more... approachable. More real and a little less ethereal and downright mystical.

"Yes, well, I wanted to make a good impression," he said, shoving the shawl-end over his shoulder. "So I borrowed a scarf from Cynar." He then turned to her, to Adelia's surprise and offered a smile so bright and charming she wouldn't have been surprised to find out that his touch turned everything into gold. "It is an honor to meet the esteemed Lady of these lands."

He sketched an elegant bow this time, the scarf-end once again flopping over his shoulder. "Ignore that," he said as he straightened again and his smile was a little less bright but no less charming as he said, "So, how did you meet this little old crypt bat? Tell me everything, please, the more embarrassing the better, I need some dirt on him."

Lord Morrow's expression was less than pleased. "Really, Ivan?" His voice was dry and there was a strange undertone to it that made his fellow warlord pause and stare at him.

Ivan's brows rose in surprise a moment later, before he made a low hum and shrugged, making a face when the scarf-end again flopped over his shoulder. "Ugh, this thing, I swear," he muttered as he just tucked the scarf end under his arm.

He then turned to Adelia again, "Apologies, I tend to be a bit much. It is genuinely wonderful to meet you and I'm glad Rowan found someone so lovely to marry."

"It's an honor to meet you, as well," Adelia answered, feeling a little bit overwhelmed by Ivan's presence. He felt like the type to keep others on their toes, his mind as sharp as his gaze.

She hesitated for just a moment, half aware of her grip on Lord Morrow's arm tightening slightly, his gaze falling to her, before she gathered her courage to tease back downright cautiously, "Rowan mentioned your unfortunate constitution towards shirts, I hope this scarf won't similarly affect you."

Lord Ivan blinked, before he laughed, delight lighting up his face and Adelia swore there was almost a glimmer of radiance to him. To her surprise Lord Morrow winced a little, his body tensing and Lord Ivan quickly got himself under control again.

"You, my dear, are a delight," the warlord said with a wide grin. "I believe I shall survive this scarf, but only barely."

He tugged at it again, trying to make it fall into place better and Adelia realized at once that he was wearing the scarf for her benefit. Lord Morrow had clearly been surprised to see his fellow warlord clad in more than pants and she was more than aware of the scandalized way the court would have reacted to seeing one of their own show up in nothing but pants.

"If you prefer to go without it, you are welcome to," she added after a moment and Lord Ivan paused, before he exhaled in clear relief and started to unwind the scarf.

"Thank the goddess," he muttered. "I thank you greatly for your kindness, my lady."

Scarf now folded on his arm, his tattooed chest on display, an amulet made of a gleaming golden chain around his throat. The golden chain ended in a big ember that shimmered like it had captured living fire within itself, the symbol of the sun goddess etched into it and it was surrounded by a ring of glittering diamonds.

"Shall we?" Lord Ivan asked, his jovial mood shifting to something focused and more serious. "I would like to see that temple you mentioned, old friend."

Lord Morrow inclined his head and the next moment, Adelia heard the sound of hooves and the clatter and groaning of a carriage. Black shapes emerged from the thick fog, the same carriage drawn by the same night-black horses that Adelia had seen before stopping before them.

The horses snorted, breath misting in front of them, hooves stomping on cobblestone and she realized they wore bit-less bridles. She knew why a moment later when one snapped its teeth at the horse beside it, biting straight through a decorative metal piece on its tack.

"Lovely, nightmares," Lord Ivan said dryly. "They are not going to like me very much, Rowan."

"You'll both live," Lord Morrow answered just as dryly and stepped forward, glancing at Adelia, expression gentling and she moved with him, gaze falling back to the horses.

One of them, the one at the front of the four-horses drawn carriage, stared back at her, eyes glowing like rubies. A strange feeling gripped her, almost something like... familiarity.

Lord Morrow opened the carriage door the next moment and she tore her gaze away, accepting the hand he offered to climb into the carriage. Lord Ivan followed, the spilling fog of the keep pulling back at his approach, giving the man a berth as though he was contagious.

Lord Morrow offered him a hand, too, with an amused expression and Lord Ivan grinned as he accepted it, climbing into the carriage to sit down across from Adelia, before Lord Morrow followed.

As soon as the door closed and Lord Morrow sat down beside her, he gave the roof a single knock and the carriage jolted into motion. Adelia bit back a startled gasp as she was pressed back into the cushions and a glance out the window made her lean over and stare in open-mouthed awe.

The night-dark countryside flew past them at a staggering speed, so fast she felt herself grow dizzy and she had to look away for a moment lest she risked fainting. Nothing had ever moved that fast. Not even riding her beloved gelding had her traveling this quickly.

"It takes some time getting used to," Lord Morrow said quietly, a soft sympathy to his words. "Take a moment and breathe."

"I threw up the first time I got a ride," Lord Ivan admitted without a hint of shame. "So you're already doing better than I did."

She leaned back, closing her eyes for a moment and taking deep and measured breaths. The dizziness abated soon enough and she took another peek out the window. It helped if she focused on distant sights, rather than the immediate landscape flying past and the dizziness resurfaced, but it was manageable.

"She's a clever one," Lord Ivan said and Lord Morrow hummed like he was well aware of that fact.

Adelia couldn't help but glance back at him, blinking as her mind adjusted to the stillness of the inside of the carriage, compared to the rush of sights outside, and Lord Morrow gave her a warm, small smile.

"And one of the bravest I know," he added and she felt a little flush of warmth in her chest at his words and she found herself smiling at him.

Lord Ivan was grinning at them a little, looking delighted and he leaned forward a little, easily drawing them into conversation and telling Adelia about how they had met, back when Lord Morrow had first become warlord.

"We actually didn't get along first," Lord Ivan said, which surprised her. They seemed to be good friends now. "I was pretty young and hotheaded back then and Rowan was... hotheaded, too."

She glanced at Lord Morrow, who cleared his throat slightly. "I might have felt a little stressed with all the new responsibilities I had. But we sorted things out quickly enough."

The carriage slowed down and he glanced out the carriage window. "Speaking of quickly enough, it seems we have arrived."

The mood within the carriage shifted as it drew to a stop and Lord Morrow got up, opening the door and stepping outside, offering Adelia his hand as she followed.

She spotted the temple right away, the crystal jutting out of the ground, the ruined remnants of the building half draped over it and half upheld by it. There had been sunflowers planted around it, but they looked half wilted and half trampled, as though people had been by to take a look.

The crystals looked strange, she thought. While they appeared as shiny and polished and almost clear the way pretty crystals at market did, there was something about them that felt... wrong.

She glanced at Lord Ivan and found his expression not grim as she had thought, but angry. It was the sort of quiet, intense anger that grew roots into hearts and tangled tightly with disgust while flirting with hatred.

"I see," Lord Ivan said, hand rising to grip the amulet around his throat. "Yes, my goddess is furious."

Lord Morrow stepped up to Adelia's side, the nightmares stomping their hooves and snorting heavily, appearing restless and quite displeased with having to be here.

"I've actually seen this before," Lord Ivan said, Adelia and Lord Morrow stilling in surprise. "It's the reason why I didn't come sooner. Two of my temples similarly exploded into crystal last week and I was hoping you were dealing with something different. Something easy to solve."

"I take it you have no idea what this is either, do you?" Lord Morrow asked and Lord Ivan stepped forward, walking towards the temple.

"Not quite," he admitted and Adelia followed, only to notice that Lord Morrow remained by the carriage. "I'll be right back, give me a moment to examine this site."

Adelia hesitated for a second, before she followed after Lord Ivan. She wanted to get a closer look at the crystals herself. The closer she got, the more she felt as though something slick and slimy started to coat her skin. It felt genuinely disgusting, if she was being honest.

"Vile, isn't it?" Lord Ivan murmured, voice grim and dark, something hard edged into his tone. "I hate that I can't figure out what happened here."

"Is it the same as with your temples?" she asked and he nodded.

"Same crystal-size, same color and same feeling." He reached out to touch one, a golden shimmer starting to fill his veins, just beneath his skin, and a sizzling sound started to become audible. He pulled his hand back with a hiss after a moment, shaking it out.

He had burns covering his palm, though they healed as a gentle golden glow glittered along his palm. "Yes, it's the same."

Adelia hesitated, before she reached out herself and Lord Ivan shook his head. "Unless you'd like to get sick, I suggest you don't risk direct skin contact." He crossed his arms over his bare chest. "Though it fades quickly enough with no lasting effects, as far as I know, in case you still want to give it a try."

She very much didn't.

Adelia moved on after a moment, examining as much as she could of the temple, Lord Ivan following after her. She pulled out a handkerchief when she spotted a small, broken-off sliver on the ground. Picking it up with covered hands, she pocketed it, hoping that it might be helpful to have others examine the crystal piece back at the keep.

As they finished their round, he stopped in front of the temple, closing his eyes and cupping his hands in front of him as though he wished to fill his palms.

When he started to speak a prayer, voice gentle and warm and the flow of his words downright melodic. She stepped away quietly, returning to Lord Morrow's side.

"I best write the other warlords," he said quietly when she drew to a stop. "It was most certainly not an accident if this temple wasn't the only one that was targeted."

"Do you know who might be capable of such a thing?" she asked and he frowned, falling quiet for a moment as he thought.

"I know a couple of incredibly talented folk," he answered. "But most of them would not be this cruel and those that would be would use their abilities differently." He gestured at the crystal. "I've never seen nor heard of something like this before."

Lord Ivan finished his prayer, a gust of warmth suddenly sweeping across Adelia and the nightmares snapped their teeth in irritation, while Lord Morrow exhaled slowly.

"The souls that lingered know peace, now," Lord Ivan said as he approached them, his previously charming, jovial expression dark and hard. "I'm sorry I can't be of more help, but as soon as I figure out what happened here and in my home, I will let you know."

"Thank you, for your aid," Lord Morrow answered solemnly. "Will you return with us?"

Lord Ivan shook his head. "I'll teleport back home." He looked back at the temple. "My goddess didn't feel the destruction of this place," he said quietly. "Only that it got quiet and she sensed the departure of her followers, though death is hardly something unusual."

Adelia stared at the crystals that seemed to hold a strange, dull inner glow without actually shedding much light at all. She had learned a few things about the gods and goddesses of the Wilds since her arrival, but not enough to know just how deep their connection to their worshippers were.

From Lord Ivan's tone, however, she could discern that it was highly unusual for the sun goddess to not be aware of the destruction of one of her temples.

"We'll stay in contact," Lord Ivan said, taking a step back. "Get home safe, you two."

"We will," Lord Morrow answered with quiet certainty. "Thank you for your time. Have a safe trip, as well."

Lord Ivan nodded and waited until they had entered the carriage again, the nightmares jolting into motion to race away, before he seemed to turn into a shower of sparks that faded to nothing, his imposing form gone.

"I'll reach out to other mages and priests," Lord Morrow murmured as they left the ruined temple behind at the same rapid, startling pace as they had arrived. Adelia already couldn't see it anymore, in fact the entire landscape seemed to change with every blink, a town appearing and vanishing within two heartbeats.

Adelia pressed her fingers over the pocketed piece of crystal, mulling everything over in her mind. What a strange, horrible thing this was. And how strange that there wasn't a single lead to follow, either.

She was determined to help in what ways she could, however. "Please keep me informed," she requested. "If there is anything I can do, I will."

Lord Morrow's grim countenance softened into something warmer and quietly grateful. "Thank you," he murmured. "I very much appreciate it and I will be glad for your insight."

The rest of the carriage ride passed in silence and when they arrived, Adelia followed Lord Morrow inside, glad to distract herself with the paperwork waiting for them.

She found herself glancing back at the threshhold of the keep, however, meeting the faintly glowing ruby-eyes of the same nightmare as before. It stared after her, standing still and with perked ears, while its peers were in a mighty foul mood, stomping their hooves with visible impatience. They were clearly done with behaving.

"My lady Adelia?" Lord Morrow asked and she tore her gaze away, catching up to him.

"It's nothing," she said, though at the same time, she couldn't shake the feeling that she knew this horse. Though, for the life of her, she could not say why or from where.

Only that it made her heart ache.

*.*.*

Slowly but steadily, as the days passed, Adelia got settled in more and more and she grew ever more comfortable with the staff, Sorceress Iva and Steward Lambrecht and her husband, as well. She felt more at home with every day, even with the mystery of the destroyed sun temple to mull over.

Her days were busy enough, however, that even that started to become an afterthought, as she spent her time between studying as much as possible, reading up on the Wilds and memorizing the last of its laws, and spending long evenings with Lord Morrow, working with him or teaching him how to play the violin.

Her friends' answering letters also arrived and at the same time, Sorceress Iva brought her little wooden boxes that were covered in a complex script of runes and sigils Adelia couldn't hope to decipher, even with her studies on runework.

Though, truth be told, those studies were slow-going at best with everything that she was learning, though she greatly enjoyed putting her mind to work on something that was so similar to clockwork. She would never be able to actually make use of it without magic, but it was still fun to learn about it.

Sorceress Iva handed over three boxes in total, one for her to keep and one to send to each of her friends. The script on each was written in a different color, one was white, one was golden and one was a bloody red.

"They are all connected," Sorceress Iva explained, showing her a divot at the top of the box with the bloody-red scrolling, and she handed over a little satin bag with two small gems inside. One was a moonstone and the other a little piece of amber, each inscribed with runes as well. "The the gem decides which box the letters will be sent to."

Sorceress Iva pulled out another two satin bags and in those there was a small ruby along with another piece of amber, so her friends could send letters to each other and to Adelia if they wanted.

The boxes were large enough to fit letters and little gifts, though not anything more. They were more precious than anything Adelia owned, aside from perhaps her metal horse.

"You would simply give me those?" Adelia couldn't help but ask and only her manners kept her from openly gaping at Sorceress Iva.

Such an invention would be terribly coveted by the entire court and the mage who had come up with such a thing would earn a lot of gold by making more. The distribution would certainly be jealously and closely guarded.

Sorceress Iva snorted. "Don't worry, other mages can't read my script easily and by the time they figure out how to replicate what I did, it will be old news. Still, if your friends could keep those secret for a while, I would appreciate it."

"I will ask them to," Adelia reassured her and quickly penned a small note to explain the boxes and gems before taking the items her friends had sent along with their recently arrived letters and handed them back to Sorceress Iva, who teleported the boxes away.

"Thank you," Adelia said, a deep, sincere gratitude welling up within her. "This means more to me than I can say." Still, she couldn't help but ask, "Are you not worried I might try to share secrets you or Lord Morrow would like me to keep?"

Sorceress Iva gave her a serious look. "I got a feeling you wouldn't. Or rather, you won't betray those who doesn't deserve it and I think we're getting along pretty well."

"You are quite right," Adelia agreed, feeling quietly touched that she had managed to earn the regard of someone as powerful, skilled and intelligent as Sorceress Iva. "If there is anything I might do for you in return, please don't hesitate to let me know."

Sorceress Iva gave her a smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes. "Will do. Now, please excuse me, I'm currently figuring out how to make magical servants and if I actually succeed, I might as well go and conquer the world while I'm at it."

She sounded like she was only half joking, as though creating something like a magical servant was on equal footing as becoming an empress. It might very well be, Adelia had never heard of such a thing before, after all.

"I wish you all the success," she said and very much meant it. "Let me know when I need to swear my allegiance."

Sorceress Iva laughed, sounding delighted, her gaze bright. "I'll make you my advisor, worry not. We can keep Rowan around so he can look pretty."

Adelia had to giggle at her words and Sorceress Iva said her goodbyes, leaving with brisk steps and a smile on her face.

Adelia penned a note to Lord Morrow once she was gone, flagging down one of the servants so they might bring it to him. He was too busy to see her during the day, but hopefully the note would reach him anyway.

She wanted him to know just how much she appreciated his thoughtfulness and care. For giving her have a way to contact her friends whenever she liked and without him knowing about it.

While Tirn, had she married him, wouldn't have read her correspondence, either, it was another thing entirely to know her letters couldn't be seen by anyone but herself and her friends. To know her messages were safe instead of hoping her husband would continue to not read them when they got delivered.

That evening, Lord Morrow seemed to be in high spirits and as they talked over dinner he managed to make her laugh as they joked with each other. They played the violin together after dinner and Lord Morrow was getting better and better at it.

Plenty of the staff had cheerfully thanked Adelia for her aid in this regard, offering to make her her favorite cakes and treats whenever she wanted. Even Steward Lambrecht once mentioned that he was glad his master looked quite happy these days.

By now, Lord Morrow was more than willing to hand the political correspondence over to her entirely, citing that he was glad if he didn't have to deal with nobility unnecessarily.

He didn't really get a lot of letters from his fellow warlords, and those he did receive were short and to the point with no unnecessarily flowery language. He handled that part of his work himself, though he handed her the letters once he had read them so she could grow more familiar with the people who governed the other territories of the Wilds.

The letters revealed curious personalities across the board, much as he had said. Some were friendly, some were polite and one rambled endlessly while another was openly antagonistic in a way that was downright shocking to Adelia, who was used to backhanded compliments and hidden jabs.

In comparison, Lord Morrow got plenty of messages from King Harold and a number from the other noble houses. Her own father had written him, as well, now that Lord Morrow was grudgingly considered family. Adelia wished she could have thrown his letter straight into the fire, but she opened it to see what he wanted.

Her father's message was considered the height of rudeness and Adelia knew he never would have dared to speak to any of the other nobles in such a way. He wasn't even the only one, a number of the other nobles clearly considered Lord Morrow uncivilized and uncouth.

It made her feel indignant on her husband's behalf, who was nothing but clever and kind and she felt especially unimpressed with the way her fellow nobles tried to gain things from Lord Morrow without giving him anything in return. Lord Morrow found those letters rather amusing when she showed them to him.

"They think me simpleminded," he said with a little grin that revealed a hint of his fangs. Adelia still hadn't quite figured out if it was something he had been born with or, well, something he had asked Sorceress Iva to give him to look more impressive whenever he needed to intimidate someone.

There were plenty of nobles who had made themselves thinner or broader or prettier with magic, after all. Those glamors didn't last forever and they weren't actually real, but they looked real enough, especially to the common folk.

In the end though, it didn't really matter, did it? He never used those fangs in a threatening manner, if anything, Lord Morrow never seemed to threaten anyone. He carried an air of quiet, subtle power with him no matter where he went, but beyond that he was focused and dedicated and quite mild-mannered and level-headed.

"Those nobles wrote me a number of letters back when I first showed up in Harold's court," Lord Morrow said, leaning his chin against his palm, his elbow braced on the desk. "But those petered out soon enough when I gave them nothing. It seems that marrying you has rekindled their hopes of getting something from me."

Adelia glanced down at the letters and she found herself getting gripped by a fierce protectiveness. She knew the greed of the nobility, their constant, hungry grasp for more things, especially if it was not theirs to take. She would not let them take anything from Lord Morrow or the Wilds.

"I've always wanted to disappoint people," she said primly, a hard edge to her voice now, and Lord Morrow laughed, the sort of carefree, belly-deep laugh of genuine mirth, his fangs gleaming in the light.

"We make quite the pair, then," he said with a wide grin, reaching for another letter addressed to him. "I delight in making their faces turn all sour."

Adelia bit back a laugh of her own, though her smile was perhaps not the nicest as she reached for a blank page to pen an answer.

Lord Morrow wriggled his eyebrows in an encouraging manner as he opened the letter, making her lose her fight against her laughter and she muffled a giggle into her palm. His smile was brighter and glad in return, like seeing her happy was everything he wanted, before he looked down as he unfolded the letter.

"Ah, it's from Harold," he muttered as he skimmed over the written lines. "He's waxing poetics about his accomplishments. Again." He glanced at her with a wry, lopsided smile. "It's his newest attempt to lure me into making promises to him, or to make me more agreeable to his suggestions."

Lord Morrow only handed King Harold's letters over if they weren't of a private nature and Adelia hadn't been surprised when she had learned that, for all that the king called her husband a friend, he was also trying to gain something. She also hadn't missed the fact that Lord Morrow hadn't claimed King Harold as a friend in return, not even once.

The support of the Wilds, some kind of allegiance statement, if not an outright joining of forces, would empower King Harold a lot, giving him a leg up against other kingdoms. It wouldn't surprise her if King Harold's ultimate goal was to eventually absorb part of the Wilds into his own lands. Even in his friendships the king was shrewd and, to a certain degree, ruthless.

Adelia still didn't know what kept Lord Morrow so very busy during the day, but whatever it was, he managed his lands with a careful and steady hand and the Wilds certainly deserved better than King Harold. In fact, Lord Morrow was the best fit for his position.

Though, whenever she asked him about his day, she found herself carefully distracted from the topic. Adelia wasn't a fool, she could take a hint. Still, it was...strange. He was strange, for all that he was a genuinely good and caring man and while Adelia wished to know more, she couldn't quite bring herself to pry.

It was, thankfully, easy to distract herself from her husband's strange mysteriousness. She had finally finished the books on the laws of the Wilds and had the time to research monsters again. To her frustration, however, the shelf was still empty.

She knew that not every person was a fast reader and she herself had kept some of the library books for quite a bit while she had been busy with other topics, so she could hardly demand that others hurry up just for her benefit.

Instead, the next day, she asked Steward Lambrecht for the book on sentient monsters and when she might expect its return. He was apologetic and confused as to why it was missing.

"I shall look into it," he promised her. "It's possible someone borrowed it and forgot about it. It happens from time to time. Last I heard, one of our stablehands was interested in the topic. I'll ask around and see if I can find out where it is."

Adelia loved that everyone in Lord Morrow's lands was allowed to have an education and Adelia had seen Ada in the library twice already, sitting in a chair by the window, reading a book about clever detectives who solved crimes and mysteries.

"Thank you, there is no rush, however," Adelia reassured Steward Lambrecht, who had plenty enough to do already without her adding to his tasks.

And while Adelia still wanted to know everything she could about the Wilds, especially since no one ever stopped her, she was loathe to take the book away from someone who was still busy reading it.

It was a novel thing to her, still ,that she could just read whatever she liked and she wanted others to enjoy that same freedom. No one ever told her that she wasn't allowed to do something, on the contrary, in fact.

If anything, she had started to tinker a little again before going to bed, though she had used up the last of her materials by now and sketching alone wasn't enough to satisfy her.

"I wanted to ask about one more thing," she said before she left Steward Lambrecht's office. "Would it be possible for me to take a horse and head down to Ravenburg?"

She wanted to go and buy materials and since her husband had so generously handed over her entire dowry, she had more then enough money to buy everything she needed for years to come. And... she believed him, now, that she could build anything she wanted. That he would happily do her as she liked.

She also trusted Lord Morrow to tell her, gently and without punishment, if she ever truly overstepped his boundaries. That he would speak with her, would seek a conversation and a mutual resolution, rather than force his will on her.

"Certainly," Steward Lambrecht answered, not even asking why she wanted to leave or where she wanted to go. Her father had always demanded to know exactly where she went if she left the castle. "Speak with one of our stablehand, they'll provide you with a horse of your choosing."

"Thank you." They exchanged polite bows and dips of their heads and a few minutes later, Adelia headed outside, a coin purse securely tucked away in a pocket of her dress.

The stablehand she approached was more than happy to get a horse ready for her, brushing down and saddling the same docile mare she had ridden the last time she had gone down to Ravenburg.

Feeling a horse's velvet soft nose brush her palm, carefully eating the treat she offered still made her throat tighten with grief.

Adelia knew she'd most likely never truly get over her sweet horse's death and she certainly would never get over what her father had done. What her carelessness, her eagerness to learn something while knowing he would not approve, had cost her.

She had just gotten into the saddle when the gate of the keep was opened and a delivery cart rumbled through, pulled steadily by two patient looking oxen. Strange containers that looked like they were made of some kind of dark metal were loaded onto the cart.

Adelia had never seen such containers before, not even in Sorceress Iva's study.

"Good day!" The driver called out, smiling and waving and Adelia smiled and waved back. "Delivery for the good lord!"

He pulled on the reins, the oxen stopping just a tad too suddenly and the cart rocked sharply, one of the containers toppling over and falling. Adelia heard the driver curse just as it crashed onto cobblestone, the top cracking open enough that dark red, thick liquid spilled forth.

"Sorry, so sorry!" the driver called, hurriedly hopping off the coach to rush to the container and pick it up, though it had already spilled quite a bit in such a short time. The red liquid spread thick and dark, staining the cobblestone like paint and a coppery-sweet scent rose into the air, one Adelia recognized all too well.

Steward Lambrecht emerged from the keep in that moment, walking forward with brisk steps. He waved off the apologies of the driver, telling him to bring the cracked container inside right away and to hand it to the servants since it could not be stored with the others.

"Apologies for this mess," Steward Lambrecht said when he noticed Adelia, his expression turning strangely blank. "We'll have this wine spill cleaned up right away."

Adelia offered a nod and her polite court smile and after a moment she gently urged the mare onward. She had seen a number of wine spills in her life and while her father rarely got drunk, the same couldn't be said about all of his friends - or Tirn.

There had also been the day the staff had been allowed to finish off a casket of bad quality wine and they had gotten so sloshed they had spilled the last quarter of it, much to their slurred dismay.

Adelia knew what spilled wine looked like and this had not been it. She was completely and utterly certain that it had been blood, fresh enough that it hadn't clotted even a little bit yet.

There was no way Steward Lambrecht hadn't known what was being delivered and if one of those metal containers had been filled with blood, the others most likely were, as well. He clearly hadn't wanted her to know about the contents of those containers. A sudden, confused unease settled heavy into her gut.

What could Lord Morrow possibly need that much blood for? Why did he need blood at all in the fist place?