After a weeklong journey, we finally arrived at Mistvile, home of the esteemed Luceal family. The town was alive with merchants and nobles preparing for the grand banquet. We checked into a luxury inn, for two nights before the banquet. Victor told me that the banquet would take place around 19:00, so we stayed at the inn before then.
Something horrible happened on the first day. I was tending to Victor's wounds, which had reopened from the cuts Ragna had inflicted. "How are you able to walk around like this so casually? Knowing me, I would have curled up into a ball until I got healed by some miracle. Hahaha. How do you do it?"
"When you've faced death countless times, scars like these hardly faze you. And it's not just me."
"Death huh?"
"Indeed. I have been on many expeditions, conquering undiscovered lands, civilising many nations and slaying many a beast in the name of this Kingdom."
"Don't you feel fear?"
Victor exhaled deeply, his fingers brushing over the scars on his body. "In the face of war, fear is as inevitable as death," he murmured. "But you learn to live with it." He looked at me then, eyes darker than usual. "I've seen things Roberta. Things that would haunt you."
"So, why do you continue to fight? W…why not just stay here... with me? What do you have to gain by wasting your life on the battlefield?"
"I fight for the sake of the Kingdom of Aglonius. By fighting for this kingdom, for her majesty, I can create the world better… for you, Roberta."
"Victor…" I sighed. "If that's the case, I'd love to fight alongside you. I want to be by your side on the battlefield. I saw what you were able to do against Ragna. If you can teach me how to fight like that, then- "
"Roberta, don't be ridiculous." His voice sharp, but not unkind. "The battlefield is no place for a woman. It goes against the Aglonian Knight's code of honour! You uttering such drivel is blasphemous towards not only her majesty, but to your father and I as well! If it was a mere jest, never say that again! Your strength lies elsewhere; you don't belong in war, and I won't see you suffer because of it! Do I make myself clear?!"
His words stung, but part of me admired his certainty. Unlike Michael, who treated me like a fragile doll, Victor saw me as someone to correct, to mould. But… was that what I wanted? My heart pounded, not from fear, but from something I couldn't yet name.
"I… I apologize, my love."
Victor glared at me wrathfully. As his fury began to subside, he let out a deep sigh. "Look, Roberta, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lash out on you like that."
"Oh, no, I apologize for insulting your honour like that, my love."
"No, Roberta, it's all on me. I just want you to understand something…" He then grabbed both of my hands. "These hands of yours aren't meant to carry a blade. They are not meant to be spoiled by the blood of others." He let my hands rest on his cheeks. "These hands are meant to nurture. They are meant to make this world a better place for the next generation. These hands should bring comfort, not bloodshed. They should help a man forget the horrors of war."
"Victor…"
We started to lean closer to each other. I could feel Victor's warm breath against my face. Victor's lips met mine, firm yet gentle. This was my first kiss. Throughout my entire life, I had always wondered what it was like to be kissed by someone. I was hoping to save my first kiss for Michael. But, I was uncertain as to whether I'd even see him again. Victor's hands traced my waist, pulling me closer. My pulse raced, but something inside me hesitated. His heartbeat was steady, unfazed. Why wasn't he nervous?
Victor pushed me onto the bed and started to nibble on my ear. He went down and gave me a peck on the neck while gently caressing my left thigh. Then, his hand went further up my dress, I felt his fingers slip beneath the fabric of my panties. "Oh Victor~!" I started to moan. Victor pulled down my panties, in that very moment, I snapped out of the love-stricken trance I was in and stopped his hand from pulling my panties off any further.
"Victor, I don't think I'm ready."
"Huh? What are you talking about?"
"I don't think I can go through with this. I mean, we are not even married yet."
"Your point being?"
"Uhm… how about, you and I just cuddle instead?"
"Cuddle? Cuddle?! Are you fucking kidding me? I've waited for you all these years, fought in countless wars, spent a whole week travelling in that carriage waiting patiently for a moment like this, and you want to cuddle? You wench!" He punched me across the face. "We may not be married, but I am still your fiancée. You are my woman, at it would be at your best interest to service me!"
His grip tightened as fear coursed through me. I tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let go. My protests faded into the heavy silence of the room. I struggled, but he was too strong. My body was no longer my own. I shut my eyes, searching for an escape, but the pain forced me to stay. This wasn't love. This wasn't what I wanted. But he didn't care. The walls, once warm and comforting, now closed in like a prison. I was trapped in a nightmare I never asked for.
When it was over, I felt hollow. I curled into myself, gripping the torn fabric of my dress, trying to piece together what had just happened. The Victor I had loved, the man who once swore to protect me… he was gone. And in his place stood a stranger.
This torture lasted for the two days we were in the inn. I felt dirty. As I looked in the mirror after showering in preparation for the banquet, all I could see was dirt. The water washed over my skin, but no amount of scrubbing could make me feel clean. The mirror reflected someone I didn't recognize. Her vacant eyes, the bruises she tried to cover, the way her shoulders curled in on themselves. I wanted to disappear, to erase the memory, but it clung to me like a stain that would never fade. The sickening thought crept in. 'Had a part of me enjoyed it? The idea made me despise myself even more for not fighting back, for not risking my life to stop him.
I dabbed concealer over my eye, my fingers trembling slightly. The bruise wasn't gone, but it was hidden like everything else. Victor wanted me to look perfect for the banquet, a pretty doll for him to parade. I felt hollow inside, but I forced my lips into a smile, just like I had so many times before in my previous life. I spent the evening starring outside the window, starring at the vast landscape of this town which resided in a world I did not know, hoping for an opportunity to make a run for it.
However, I knew that Victor would find me eventually. So, I just continued to stare.
"Roberta, my love. You look splendid."
"Oh, uhm…thank you. You look…splendid too."
"It's about time for us to head to the Luceal mansion now. Shall we?"
"Oh…of course."
We linked arms and stepped outside, where our carriage awaited. We rode off towards the mansion.
On the way there, I just couldn't wrap my head around how Victor could just pretend as if his actions against me didn't happen. Did he expect me to just pretend as if nothing happened like he was?
These thoughts tossed and turned around the chambers of my mind, until my frustration turned to anger. Hatred coiled in my chest, tightening with every breath.
My fists clenched in my lap, nails biting into my skin, sharp enough to draw blood. How could he just sit there, smiling, pretending nothing happened? The world outside the carriage was endless, but I felt trapped. My heart pounded. I wanted to run. I wanted to fight. I wanted to grab that sword of his and cut his throat, but I knew that would be impossible. I tried my best to hide these feelings. Just as I used to hide my feelings of pain towards my impending death in my lifetime as Amaka.
"Hmm… Roberta. I can sense bloodlust oozing out of you. Do you hate me now? Do you want me dead?"
"N…No, not at all my love."
"Liar!!" yelled Victor closer, his presence looming over me. "You want to kill me, don't you?" He reached for his sword, shoved it into my hands. His fingers closed over mine, forcing them around the hilt. "Go on. Do it. Prove to me you're not just a scared little girl."
"No, why would I-- "
"Do it!" He tightened his grip, forcing my hand to lift the blade. The cold steel pressed against his neck, his voice shaking with fury. "Kill me!"
"Victor, please! You're scaring me!"
Victor sighed, his voice softening as he pressed the sword into my hands. "I know you think you hate me, but love isn't easy, Roberta. It's sacrifice. It's knowing your place at my side, through thick and thin. That's what devotion is."
"Yes…"
"Yes who?"
"Yes, my love."
"Good girl." Victor sheathed his sword. "Good girl." He ran his fingers through my hair, the motion slow and deliberate. My body stiffened, but I didn't pull away. I couldn't. His lips brushed against my neck, and I felt bile rise in my throat. I clenched my jaw, swallowing the urge to recoil. This was my life now. And he knew it.
After a 30-minute ride along the hills surrounding the town of Mistvile, we finally arrived at the mansion of the Luceal family.