Chapter 2. He Could Be She

In this long, unsavory night, the moon glazes at them with pitiful sorrow, the clouds slowly covering the cries of the moon by covering the light of the moon in their direction.

The torches of the guards are everywhere, and some of the mages use their elemental power to light the place with their elemental light orbs.

"Search the perimeter, take the survivors you meet along your way," he ordered his soldiers, and they did what he said and took pledge of the order. He settled his horse, and one of the soldiers on guard stood by as he discharged himself and gave the rope to the guard. The guard mooched the horse at the nearby tree.

One of the commanders greeted him with a bold look. "Report for duty, your grace. The infected wolves are all dead. No threads were found of the Mysterious Masked Man who slayed all the wolves.“ The Duke just silently listened.

“But all the wolves were freshly fed. The bodies we found are out of breath,yet all have died by just this night. We found no traces of old bodies inside the wolves. They seemed put in a long slumber of their hunger and awakened to gather fresh flesh."

He entered the fence and found the bodies of chopped-up dead wolves. "Did you dice them all?"

The commander nodded in answer. "The Royal Guardian wants to gather research for their parts. That's what we were ordered to do by the bishop."

He palmed his face. The bishop is really into that mysterious mask. Now he's using the 'Royal Guardian' to look for traces of that slayer.

"The bishop wants to find out who's the real man behind the slayer feature. He's using the tactics of the late king," he said while roaming his eyes on the flesh of the wolf.

"He's using the pathfinding item, one of the so-called symbolic artifacts of the deity, the Sharp," Wefer added, one of his guards.

"It could not take long to find that man. The Sharp is not meant for nothing." He grinned at that idea and shook his head. The masked man had already done everything to raise his image. He is annoyed but amused at the same time.

***

When she arrived home...

"You already arrived," she flinched.

'Darn, his voice is damn shocking to me all the time. Where's that dwarf hiding now? '

She tried to roam her eyes in this dimly lit room.

'I mean, where's Uncle sitting now? "She corrected herself.

"You love sneaking in your room. And it is not appropriate for a lady like you. Have you forgotten your culture?"

Nonetheless, she can speak.

"A lady in a nightgown without a robe sneaking in the middle of the night. You must have a tongue for explaining yourself right now." Phew, thanks for throwing the clothes in her bathroom laundry before she sneaked in her room.

But...

Damn, she is screwed. "Hehehehehe, how about we take tea outside and talk with your lectures?" She quipped.

How timing is her uncle right now? It must be the lady crawling with a flat nose who denounced her for sneaking into her room at night. That damn foolish b*tch

'damn, tea? Outside in a cool breeze? It is more frozen than the town! So short of ideas.'

The lady who lives next door always annoys her.

"Explanation is what I need the most," he said, pausing each word, emphasizing he is serious and doesn't like to ride her lies.

Damn. This night is f*ck.

"How about we take our nap first and enjoy a dream of fantasies, then discuss this tomorrow? Isn't it a good idea?" But he only gave her a flattened look and never insisted on blinking from her glares.

She then sighed in defeat. This will be a long night.

***

Morning...

"Saph, talk now," she demanded. Saphena brushed her hair while soaking in her tub. Saph is her Lady-in-waiting, her personal Lady servant assigned by the Minister's wife. But Saph is one of her acquaintances from back days.

Saph showed her grit before bursting. "Your uncle was so worried about you last night," she answered.

"I already took it. Thanks." Saph breathed slowly yet heavily while looking at her side.

She could feel her gaze burning her alive. That's what keeps echoing in these bathroom corners. "Saph, talk now."

She could tell that Saph averted her own gaze away from her to be able to stop herself from nagging. "Death occurs every day. One of the common reasons is heart failure. Heart failure is the ailment that caused the second prince to die without meddling in the quarrel of the Two Kings because he only kept his claim hidden. As you know, it might be —" she was cut when Saph loosen her rope

"My next? Are you say'n? "

She gave her a thumbs up and mimicked the work perfectly.

"Tsk. You. You never think for us. You always do your own thing. You are always quiet but stubborn on the other side. You sneak at night, found at clubs, in the forest, or ruining a flower sunset during spring at dawn." She smiled and faced her.

"Live your life to the fullest," she said.

Saph released an exasperated sigh and looked at her with annoyance. "Seek your death; that's suitable for your behavior," Saphena murmured.

She laughed at what Saph said, but shortly after, she covered her mouth when she met her deathful glares. "I'm just doing my walking routine," she commented.

"Routine, my butt," Saph snorted.

She pushed her back against the floor of the tub and lifted her head

"You know killings are prohibited to us, ladies. We, women, only allow to kill as a way to defend ourselves when it is necessary. But when we lay a finger to kill, we're punished so severely that we can't even oppose."

"Veiled ladies need to keep their sanity and humanity. That's what they say." Saph poured the bubbly liquid on her own palm and squeezed it on 'her' shoulder. "They model purity against the odds running around the clock."

She half-grinned at what she expected Saph to say. She closed her eyes, enjoying the massage on her shoulder.

Yesterday night was both tiring and boring. People always strive to live, but they never point to fighting against it at the very least with their breathing. They want to be safe, but they are subconsciously killing their lives by staying in and relying on others.

They just waited for a Savior. And that is the sucky thing they believed in. Wasted their lives by some kind of savior who never wished for their survival. That's what she's rooting for. Showing them that neither a savior nor a savior can fully save them, they need to act, stand, and shield themselves rather than trusting the artificial and fake gods.

"Does purity always see innocent hands? They might not do the killings through hands, but what do about their schemes? They can kill without grabbing a knife or picking a poison. They could kill with no mishap." She popped the big bubbles she spotted in her eyes below on her naked knees.

"Power and mind are what you want to point out. Yeah, for the moment, I could plan on terminating you without being in the nose of someone." Saph laughed and confidently said those words as she continued massaging her forehead.

"Schemes. Shocker," she murmured.

Saph laid her robe on and helped her wear it. The bathroom is tilted with crystal that can be drawn as a mirror in every corner. The curtains of the tub always spring the clear-glossy white silk of it. The orange moisture that the water lives on leaves its smell alluring in the room.

"Thanks for the bath," she said as she combed her own hair. Saph cracks a grin and then says, "Orange is my expertise." Yeah-yeah. She can't argue with that. Saph background lines never sort of like orange or work with a spring. They are worn with swords on their hips. But Saph is the total wrecker of their line; she never likes swords or seeing blood, even when she slices or wounds her skin.

"Your hair is smooth like the feather of a phoenix. Rare and delighted with soft fire. Did someone tell you your hair is more like a symbol of fortune?" She hoisted a brow. She had never heard that kind of crazy before. Slap for the fact that she was already veiled when she reached the age of two.

However, a sudden tension came into her mind; she felt fuzzy, and a blurry scene came into her sight. There was a man standing in front of the mirror with her who said exactly the same words Saphena said to her.

“Your red hair will always be the symbol of the fortune of our love. Rare and secluded with a strong flame.“

The man suddenly disappeared in the reflection of the mirror, but the place changed into a rock room, and she saw a scrawny man lying on the soft bed, sleeping. When she was about to take a close step, her chest tightened, and she was taken back to her present.

And Saphena was looking at her, confused.

“Maybe now.” She shook her head. “I'm hearing it from you."

“Are you sure you're okay?“ She just gave her a slight nod and focused her eyes on the reflection of the mirror. The voice is the same. Who was that

Her hair is long, but she never laid a special concern for it. Her hair is just like anyone's. Her hair is just a product of the ordinary. Nothing mysterious behind it.

Though sometimes she finds it cringe-worthy, Her hair changed color somehow, as if her eyes never failed her. Yet, it only happened for a couple of seconds.

Saph folded a ton of messy towels in the basket and bookmarked them for the cabinet. The towel is so big that it can be mistaken for a blanket. However, it was purposely designed by the bishop and his line of designers.

"I'm just a slacking of words. I don't see any fortune on it. I may have been lucky at the first sight of it when I stepped in your chamber, but nothing is improving in my position. So it is rather nothing." Saph is really kind of absurd. Damn, remind her every damn second that she's not here to be a source of headaches.

"It is literally rude."

"Sucker," Saph murmured, her face high, chin up into her doings.

She remembered that Saphena asked for long hours of leave yesterday, and she happened to have something in mind—exactly killing the hunger of the wolves.

"What happened at the meeting of yours yesterday?"

"Jinx, as to what to expect," Saph said in a bored tone.

"Why, though? Is there something bothering you?" She picked up the lipgloss from her podium of face models. The gloss is designed to prevent her face from being seen if the veil is suddenly worn out or blown by unexpected guests.

"Someone, that's the perfect word," she laughed. If it is someone, then she knows exactly who Saph means. There is only one person who Saph hates and annoys the most: the lady in the crown, the next to ascend the crown of Convalesce, Lady Autia.

"Why would she be there?" Lady Autia never laid a foot in the chamber meeting hall of the lords and ladies in waiting. She hates the idea of setting heels on their tiles. Though her reason is just a bit absurd, she just hates the tiles; that's it.

"Though she is the first lady bishop, I, too, wondered why she was there suddenly. But I was not entirely focused yesterday." She can feel bitterness in Saph's voice, as if toning that she did something unusual that stole her mind instead of contributing to the meeting.

"And that brat lady worsens my mind. She always has this disgusted look when she looks us in the eye. Yet, she turns sweet when the leader of the meeting enters the chamber hall."

She couldn't prevent herself from laughing, but she knew it would add a boil to the air if she did that, so she just turned away from her and faced the door, away from her gaze. That could be a little safer if she blurted it out.

"You sound jealous. Do you still idolize the lord of what they always called "fuckable-faceless-of-god?" Teasing Saph is not a good idea; she can sense the air being wild and intense more. Saphena is even more sadistic than she is. Saphena is not born to be a sweet kid; she is born with agile truth.

"I guess I need to see my gown now; see you if you're done." Without hesitation, she walked out.

The Lady of the Crown has already started her move, even stepping on her own pride just to save her face, which is absolutely foolish. She really did everything just to start her schemes.

She wondered if the Lady in Convalesce began her motives just to corner the masked man, the rumor child of the God, who loathes to save the weak and who loves to draw blood with monstrous beings.

'Lady Autia is really obsessed to see the masked man's real face, which is Autia, which could never be expected; it could be me, a lady in a veil.'