Chapter 3 - Chosen Child (Patreon)

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Having full access to every part of the castle was a blessing. Gone were the days of boredom. Gone were the days of staring at a wall. Whenever I wished to do something, I did it.

Within reason.

I tried, on a whim, to exit the castle through the front gates into the city once, and was given an hour-long lecture by my parents. There was crying from the baroness and shouting from the baron. On the bright side, I believe the maid who stopped me was given accommodations for her, um, marvelous feat.

Outside of actually leaving Castle Grey, the grounds, the island, and the castle itself were mine to explore as I desired, thankfully, as long as Sonya followed me around.

However, there were exceptions to the “no leaving” rule.

Family outings, for example.

My first one, to be precise.

“It’s all coming together,” said the baroness as she looked me over. Her eyes lit with pure, motherly joy. “You look so cute!” she exclaimed, her hands closing over her mouth in awe.

Yay...I’m cute...what every guy wants to hear...

Yeah, guy. Wrong. Shit, I need to stop thinking that, or I’ll go crazy. My name is Scarlet. I inhabit a girl’s body. I control it. Get used to it as best you can. It’s not like the sex change has mattered yet, besides the clothing, going to the bathroom, changing, looking in the mirror, light marriage talks, and having to start my female noble etiquette lessons.

Ugh, don’t think about it...

Taking a mental breath, I stared at myself in the mirror nearby.

Standing with the baroness and a gaggle of maids in an extravagant room in Castle Grey, I was poked, prodded, and pampered until I was “feminine enough” to be presentable in public. A long white dress covered me, contrasting well with my bright red hair and emerald green eyes, both of which were features passed down by my mother. The dress’s trim was riskier than I would have expected from this world, stopping at about my knees. Honestly, all the clothing was. I expected conservative necklines and ankle-length dress hems, but that wasn’t the case. The baroness constantly showed off her chest, and the average hem was around knee height. 

The attire in this world was, in general, surprising. There was clothing one might expect of magic-fueled lands. It wasn’t unusual for people to wear armor, carry swords, or attach pouches to themselves. Accessories were clearly a must, since everyone wore some pouch, belt, or weapon.

Then there were the discrepancies.

There were leather jackets similar to what I’d seen in my last world. Versions of pea coats, trench coats, and similar jackets were standard. All the pants were comfortable mixes of modern and old concepts. There was even some stretchy clothing. Dresses weren’t as conservative as I’d have thought they’d be, and women tended to show more skin than I’d have expected, especially in noble circles. 

It was like a blend of two cultures. Sci-fi fantasy? But the sci-fi would be modern times, and the fantasy would be, well, the present. Fantasy modernism? I didn’t know. Either way, the combinations oddly went well together, but random clothing items always momentarily jerked me out of the time period.

“She’ll look lovely for the confirmation,” Sonya attested with glee as she fixed my hair. She then fluttered about me with two other maids, prodding and poking until I looked perfect.

“Wonderful! All of Hopeful Lake’s members of high society will be there to see her,” gloated the baroness. “And if they can’t make it, they’re sending proxies in their place. It’s so exciting... and a little stressful.”

Son of a bitch...

Given how much my life had changed since I tricked my parents, I had severely underestimated how much they and other people would care that I was a Chosen Child.

I thought the baron was joking about “princes,” but the King of Zalevet actually sent my father a letter of congratulations for my mere existence. Right away, that was the first sign that my ploy might have put me in way over my head.

Once word got out of the King’s letter, high-profile nobles, merchants, and envoys of those who could not make it steadily arrived in the city. They’d be at the temple with gifts and greetings. We also received word from the Temple that the entire building would likely be filled with onlookers and that those who could not fit inside would line the streets on the way there.

So, yeah… things escalated a tiny bit.

The baroness moved in front of me. She lightly grabbed my hands. “Are you nervous?”

“No,” I replied genuinely. I was just annoyed at myself.

“Oddly enough, I believe you, sweety,” she chirped. “It’s alright if you aren’t.” Her face paled. “I’m nervous for both of us.”

“R-right.” I allowed her an awkward smile. “It’ll be okay?”

“My own child’s trying to comfort me.” The baroness’s face grew even paler. “Gods, I’m weak.” Her eyes stared past me, talking quietly to herself, but not so low that I couldn’t make out her words. “One day, you’re the wife of a soldier. The next, you’re a baroness.” She went white to the point of almost looking sick. “But I’m doing the best I can.”

My lack of stress genuinely stressed her out.

“How many people will be there?” I asked, purposely dropping my voice to a near whisper.

“A few hundred,” the baroness said in an equally wary tone. “Perhaps a thousand or more if we consider the streets along the way.”

“O-Oh.” I stuttered. Averting my gaze, I forced myself to shake so the baroness could feel the motion in my hands. “I-It’ll be f-f-fine, right?”

The baroness’s nervousness disappeared immediately as she pulled me into a hug. “Don’t worry. Mommy will be with you the whole time.” Her protective mama-bear demeanor overwhelmed me.

Oddly enough, even though I was acting, her words were still a comfort.

•

Our family was pulled by carriage across a massive drawbridge connecting the small island on which Castle Grey sat to the larger city of Water’s Bastion. Our carriage rattled across it as our horses trotted into the city. Guards shadowed us on all sides as we rolled through the busy streets.

With a smile, I opened the carriage door’s window and peeked outside.

Finally. Somewhere outside that boring castle.

Water’s Bastion was considered the capital of the region, formally dubbed the Hopeful Lake territories. There were massive freshwater bodies the size of Lake Michigan, based on the maps I’d seen. At twelve points around the lake, artificial cities crafted using this world’s magic surrounded it.

This city was the first one created. A territory half the size of Chicago sat on a man-made landmass on the water. From what I’d read, the world’s magic users created the island with the help of builders and architects. It was incredible yet bizarre. The island was shaped like a giant lollipop, with Castle Grey in the middle like a filling.

“Lady Scarlet! You mustn’t stick your head out the window!” chided Sonya, worried. “Your hair! Your dress!”

Yeah, screw both of those things. Like I care.

Much to my chagrin, two firm hands pulled me back into the carriage. Shortly after, the window was sealed until only a tiny crack was open to let in air.

“Listen to Sonya,” ordered the baron.

Aren’t you an overbearing control freak, dude? Gods, I can’t wait until I can do shit by myself again.

“Sorry,” I muttered, faking some sort of sentimentality. “It’s just… I’ve only read about it and seen pictures. I can see the city from the castle, but this is different. It’s so beautiful.”

Especially since I’m no longer cooped up inside. It might be years before I’m allowed out here again. I’m going to relish this.

A proud look overcame my father. “It’s a magnificent city. I’m glad you can see that.”

We finally crossed the bridge and entered the town.

The buildings and layout reminded me of Venice, Italy. Waterways cut through many streets, and boats carrying people and supplies darted under small bridges and between alleyways. Greenery was incorporated into the sides and roofs of buildings. The general vibe of the people we passed was positive.

If I had to describe the place in one word, it’d be bright.

I could feel my parents watching me with proud smiles as I gazed at the world around me in awe.

“The crowds are larger than we expected, but we cleared a path for you, sir,” said a guard on horseback as he pulled up beside our carriage. “We should arrive on schedule,” he informed my dad.

“Excellent. Keep up the good work,” affirmed the baron.

The guard nodded before moving back into formation with the other guards.

“Are you still nervous?” asked the baroness as our carriage rolled along unimpeded.

“Not as much as I was before, but a little,” I admitted. It was the truth this time. I started getting nervous as we got closer to the temple.

“There’s no need to be. Talbert and Van Gallan have security locked down for this event. Nothing will happen,” said the baron.

“It’s more about my… duty… and the people there to see me,” I rebuked lightly.

“Let’s get your mind off it, then.” The baron picked me up and put me on his lap. I allowed the momentary awkwardness settling in my mind to fade as he pointed outside. “You can see the city better now than before, right?”

“Yeah!”

“Isn’t it pretty?”

I nodded. It didn’t totally get rid of my nervousness, but I pretended it did. It was clear the baron didn’t know how to make me feel better. But he was trying.

Oh God, I’m gonna throw up.

The temple slowly came into view. It looked like a large cathedral. It was by far the biggest building in Water’s Bastion, save for Castle Grey.

We were still a few kilometers away, and the crowd lining the streets was already awkwardly large. Thousands of people were standing around, cheering eagerly as our carriage trotted past them.

“Bless this country!”

“You are seen!”

“Your family is in our prayers!”

“Bring our country prosperity!”

“You are seen!”

I… I don’t think I took this seriously enough. I had reservations earlier, but now I know for sure. I may have made a hasty mistake.

The texts suggested that Chosen Children were rare, and I assumed as much from my knowledge of prodigal children on Earth. But this was something else. The religious fervor of this world was wild. I took it for granted since the society I came from was apathetic religiously at best, at least where I lived. I thought my “talents” would make me something akin to an internet-famous comedian or something. Given that the entire city was lining the street congratulating my family and me even before the confirmation, I was more like a world-famous pop idol.

Shit. I let my eagerness get the better of me and made a decision while caught up in my own life’s potential, and now my abnormal, reincarnated self is being pushed forth for the masses to gawk and stare at.

I steadily pushed back the urge to panic as we got closer and closer. I’d even gotten of the baron’s lap and got back into my own seat beside Sonya.

You know what? Screw it. Felix, the bastard, he’d dwell on this for days. Not me. That’s all in the past.

Heh, heh...

Goddammit, I’m an idiot.

I lightly hit my head against the carriage’s side as cheers reached my ears.

“A Chosen Child!”

“Bless her!”

“May our city prosper!”

“It’s a sign from the Gods!”

I bashed my skull against the carriage harder and harder each time someone chanted.

“Lady Scarlet! Stop that!” Sonya hugged my head to her chest.

“I want to knock myself out!” I cried. “Let me do it!”

“She was nervous,” uttered the baron as he stared at me, worried.

“Not like this.” The baroness leaned across the carriage and rubbed my head. “It’ll be okay. We’ll be with you the entire time.”

“We can’t be with her for the actual ceremony, though,” the baron tacked on. “It will only be her, the bishop, and the priests who affirm her.”

The baronnes glared at him.

The baron raised his hands defensively.

Great. Just great. Now the entire city’s going to hail me as some religious savior. This is my life now. I’m permanently marred by fame. People are chanting. Chanting, dammit. I’m usually better than this. I was a lawyer. A lawyer! This is way more than what I bargained for!

“C-Can we go home?” I asked my parents nervously.

“Oh, sweety.” The baron patted my head. “Of course not.”

Right.

My introverted brain trembled at the implications as our carriage rolled onward.

•

After some time, our transport ground to a steady halt. Guards surrounded us.

One opened the door.

The baron exited first, then he held his hand out for the baroness. She was escorted off. For me, the baron held out his arms and pulled me from the carriage before placing me on the ground.

We were far from any crowds. Guards blocked the space between them and us at the temple’s entrance. It gave us the freedom to go inside. When we did, I felt hundreds of eyes shift my way all at once.

The sudden onslaught of cheers that came soon after deafened and sickened me.

I was never one for the spotlight. Being in a courtroom was different. That was more like being an envoy for another person. Everyone listened to me, but it wasn’t like I was the main topic, just a mouthpiece. And I didn’t even go to court that often. I mostly settled. However, like now, when the attention was all on me for me because of me, it felt suffocating.

Lord, help me. Whoever you are. At least give me some smokes. A drink. Blind me! Anything!

God, this is so annoyingly frustrating...

Screw it. There’s no point worrying, and there’s no going back. All I need to do is walk. Forward. One step at a time.

The baroness took my hand as she and the baron guided me toward the temple. At the large, closed doors, a priest awaited us.

“Greetings.” The priest bowed his head.

“Bishop Sovereign.” The baron greeted him with words alone.

“My lord. My lady.” The priest’s gaze drifted to me. He smiled. “And this must be our Chosen Child.”

“Yes,” I said blandly, my face numbed with mild regret. “That’s me.”

The bishop’s smile wavered slightly.

“She’s nervous,” said the baron.

“Quite right,” replied the bishop. “I dare say she has every right to be. I do not think I have ever seen the temple this crowded in my entire time here.”

Oh, joy.

“The guests are situated. All that’s left is to proceed with the ceremony. If you would please guide her to the altar at the back of the temple, I will take her from there and have the priests authenticate her before the masses.”

“We will follow your lead,” said the baron.

“Excellent.” The bishop snapped his fingers and pointed at two men in white-and-gold garb. “Begin.”

The doors slowly opened.

Bishop Sovereign walked ahead of us.

“All rise!”

I allowed my mind to numb with acceptance as my parents pushed me forward gently with their hands.

“Goddamn child abusers,” I muttered.

“Hmm?” the baron asked.

I did not reply.

Passing through the temple’s doors, I hid an immense frown as I saw crowds of people. Most lined the sides down to the altar. On the balconies above, distinguished guests stared down at me judgmentally.

All I could feel were eyes looking my way. There had to be over a thousand people in here alone.

I stared blankly at the floor as I forcibly blurred out the scenes around me. Step by step, my parents supported me down the aisle as the chatter of onlookers pricked my ears.

“That’s her?”

“Doesn’t look special.”

“The girl’s cute. She’ll be a beauty someday.”

“I hope she’s confirmed. It’ll mean great things for this country.”

“If we can’t have a Voiced, at least the Gods are blessing us with a Chosen Child.”

I resisted the urge to slap my face, but couldn’t hide the large sigh that slipped past my lips.

The baroness pinched the back of my neck, causing me to sit up straight with wide eyes.

“Not the place,” she hissed.

The temple’s altar was odd. The back of the building was filled with circular statues of various gods carved from stone. When there wasn’t a service or event, people could come into the temple and burn incense to the god of their choice. Since we lived in Zalevet, the largest and most prominent statue was that of Marx. In this iteration of him, he was a large man with flowing hair and a bushy beard, looking down on us as coins melted through his fingers like water.

Bishop Sovereign held out his hand for me. I took it, leaving my parents behind, and moved forward with him.

A small circular platform rose slightly in the middle of the altar. Its shape allowed the room's natural echo to reach everyone in attendance.

“Today, bear witness to Scarlet Embers’s confirmation as a Chosen Child. Priests Salazar and Victor separately confirmed her prowess.”

Hearing their names, two men stepped out of a crowd of priests lining the back wall of the altar.

Ah, it’s them. They lived with us and followed me for about a month. Clearly, I did something right, because here I am.

“Priest Salazar, present your testimony,” ordered Bishop Sovereign.

“With the aid of Priest Victor, I monitored Lady Scarlet Embers, age five, during the mornings. During this time, I had her read from Marx’s writings. Having not seen them before, she easily recited them as if she’d been reading books her entire life. While impressive, her discussions on theology and her theories assured me of her uniqueness,” monologued Priest Salazar. “Her understanding and comprehension of new materials are far beyond her years. For those reasons, I concede before the Gods that she is their Chosen,” concluded the priest.

“You are seen.” Bishop Sovereign nodded to his priest. “You may release your life essence for the confirmation and seal your vow.”

Priest Salazar walked toward a large column in the middle of the altar with a collection bowl on top. He pulled a knife out of his robes, put his hands over the bowl, and sliced. Red liquid dripped from his palm and filled the bowl.

It wasn’t surprising, given what I’d read. Blood held significant religous meaning in this world, but it still sickened me to see, even if I was expecting something like that.

“Priest Victor, you may present your testimony,” allowed Bishop Sovereign with a nod.

Priest Victor nodded back. He stood where Priest Salazar stood, addressing the crowd. “It is without a doubt in my mind that Lady Scarlet Embers is a Chosen Child of the Gods. While Priest Salazar focused on comprehension and discussion, I judged her ability to plan, strategize, and learn. We simulated wars from the past using games. Each time, she took bold tactics that no child her age—indeed, most adults—could make.”

We played shit like chess. Sometimes I had fewer pieces than him. Other times, he had more bishops or other such advantages. Two queens was the hardest. I lost a lot, but I held my own, given that I’d never liked chess or played it much before. The priest quickly “taught” me how, but I already knew. It didn’t mean I was good. From his point of view, though, a five-year-old who’d only known about the game for a month was probably close to a miracle.

Beyond that, he’d quizzed me on old battles while teaching me their background. I was given troop numbers, geography, and weather conditions and tasked with making a plan of attack.

I’m sure I did shitty. I’ve never commanded an army before, but again, for a child my age, it was probably exceptional.

“...and for those reasons, I concede, before the Gods, that Scarlet Embers is their Chosen.”

“You are seen.” Bishop Sovereign nodded to his priest. “You may release your life essence for the confirmation and seal your vow.”

Priest Victor copied everything Priest Salazar did, donating his blood by cutting his hand.

“I, as the bishop of this temple, presiding over this confirmation, donate my life force in acceptance of my priest’s words.” He, too, sliced open his hand and donated blood to the bowl. “Let all witness this day, for a Chosen Child has emerged in Water’s Bastion! May she bring prosperity and pride to the city and all of Zalevet!”

“You are seen,” echoed everyone in the temple.

That’s creepy...

You are seen.

It was a phrase of devotion. It meant that everyone was watching and supporting each other just as the Gods watched over all of us. That was the logic, at least. Whether it was true or not was completely debatable.

I glanced over my shoulder at my parents. They looked at me happily, but I could also see deep concern on their faces.

“Don’t think about it,” mouthed the baroness.

“Tough it out,” whispered the baron.

What? Why? Tough what out? Don’t think about what?

“Keeping with tradition, we will now affirm the rights of Tellus.”

Rights of Tellus? As in the name of the planet? Oh, right. That’s their version of Mother Nature. I think Brosnock considers Tellus their main deity. Makes sense, given how vital agriculture is to their society.

Bishop Sovereign picked up a book he had open on a nearby stand and walked toward me. As he did, he dipped his free hand in the blood pool.

Oh God, please don’t do what I think you’re going to do.

“May thine actions defy death as the succor of life takes thee in this continued existence,” preached Bishop Sovereign. “Thou art a beacon for what was and what may pass. Thou art seen. Thou art known.”

He placed his blood-dipped palm directly over my face without warning.

My entire being shriveled into itself with disgust and horror.

Don’t throw up, don’t throw up, don’t throw up, don’t throw up.

“We see you,” concluded the bishop.

“You are seen,” preached the onlookers.

•

“How long do I have to leave it on?” I asked my parents as they, the priests, and the bishop escorted me to the gardens at the back of the temple.

“The ritual is over. Witnesses saw you with the mark. You may remove it before the guests arrive. A wash bowl was prepared earlier,” replied Bishop Sovereign.

“Good, good. Next question. Why did you do that to me?”

“Ah, a good question. An inquisitive mind seeks answers!”

“No. Not really. Anyone would be concerned if three people smeared their blood on their face.”

At least I don’t have to pretend to talk like a brat anymore. Chosen Children sounding like adults? Totally normal. Thank God.

“Smeared?” Bishop Sovereign made a face. The other two priests who testified for me wore similar looks.

“I tasted it,” I complained with immense validity on my part. “I almost threw up.”

“Blood is one’s life force. The life force of a servant of the Gods, given in testimony before the people, serves as a seal of good luck.”

“It didn’t feel very lucky,” I whispered to myself.

In some sense, I knew blood would be involved. The entire religious culture was driven by blood, sweat, and sex. Blood was revered as the essence of life. Sweat symbolized hard work and stability, as it supported our continued survival and innovation. Sex, in the sense that promiscuity was relatively mainstream outside of a bond formed around raising children.

While not strange concepts, they still conflicted with my Western Christian worldview. Luckily, I wasn’t that religious anyway, so adjusting was much more manageable.

Sacrificing animals, trinkets, time, and offering one’s body for services were common here as religious tribute. Cutting one’s hand open and offering it to the Gods was seen as a pact with the Gods. All that was normal. Smearing blood on the face of a child, though? Didn’t read that anywhere.

I did my best to ignore the drying blood on my face as I stared at the garden. It was beautiful. Every color you could imagine grew from the ground. Intricate fountains, lush hedges, and detailed stone sculptures littered the green space. It all lay below us as we looked down at the landscape from the vast church patio looming overhead.

But all that became secondary as soon as I saw the bowl of water the bishop mentioned. I immediately broke away from the group and plunged my hands into it. The cool liquid splashed my face as I scratched at my skin. My fingernails rubbed me raw. The irritation hardly bothered me as the blood came off me and into the bowl.

“She fears blood. You’d do well to correct this,” scolded the bishop as he looked at my parents.

“She’ll be in for a surprise when she gets older,” joked the baroness.

I froze.

The words and their meaning registered in my ears.

Slowly, I looked between my legs and stared in horror. The thought of bleeding monthly entered my mind for the first time, likely to linger there for days, if not months, on end.

•

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, young lady.” An older man placed his hand on his chest and bowed. I assumed the two people lingering behind him were his wife and son.

“And you, sir,” I replied with a cheery smile that completely hid the unease in my heart and stomach.

The son, probably two years older than my current body, stared at me like I was some toy. I allowed him an awkward smile.

The family turned to leave.

“She’s pretty!” said the boy once they were barely out of earshot.

“Yes, she’s a cute girl, now hush,” scolded his mom.

I looked up at the sky dramatically as a random stranger once again objectified me.

Please, whoever it out there, please let my suffering end. I’m tired of saying hi to strangers. I feel like I’ve been standing here for days. I can still feel the blood on my face. I want to go home. Please, whatever Gods are out there, let me go home.

I’d heard every version of cute, pretty, charming, lovely, and beautiful there was to say. It was creepy. So creepy.

In my head, I had the collective knowledge of someone in their thirties, but they didn’t know that. I was literally five from everyone else’s point of view. All they knew was that I was smarter than your average brat and seemed somewhat mature. Would they have said those things to a different five-year-old? I hoped not.

“Sit up. Important guest,” uttered the baron as he tapped my back.

A thirteen-year-old brat with windswept brown hair and rich-looking clothing walked toward us with guards around him. He wore gloves, and a sealed letter was in his right hand.

The baron bowed to him, as did the baroness, so I followed suit.

“Viscount Roswell. A pleasure,” said the baron.

Viscount? This prepubescent child? It feels degrading sucking up to someone whose balls haven’t dropped yet, but there’s nothing I can do about it. The ranks of nobility are harsh. 

Baron was the lowest noble rank. Then viscount. After was marquis, duke, archduke, prince, queen, then the king. While that was the breakdown, the barons managed the lands and territorial governments. Viscounts and higher either resided in the capital, where the king ruled, or in one of the four major regional cities where the Dukes lived.

Water’s Bastion was an important city, and it produced a lot of agricultural goods for the country, but it was close to the warring northern border and didn’t have the same level of cultural significance or wealth as the major cities. It had been through a civil war less than a decade ago. It needed time to become something. But it would, someday, maybe. I didn’t know.  

“You may stand,” said the boy. His voice cracked slightly as he did. Viscount Roswell handed the baron a letter. “It’s a request from my father. You may read it.” The entire time, he continued to hold my gaze.

I stared back blankly.

The boy smiled cheerfully in my direction as if he had found a dessert he liked.

I shivered.

The baron opened the letter. After taking a moment to read it, he handed it to the baroness. “I...don’t know what to say.”

“You can say yes,” replied the viscount in his childish voice.

“She’s a little young to be considering such things,” added the baroness in a slightly panicked voice.

“In ten years, she’ll be of age. She’s a Chosen Child destined to change these lands. Lady Scarlet will be taken care of,” replied the viscount, as if he were reading off a sheet of paper. “That’s in the future. My father said he’ll start paying you today if you accept.”

Alright, I need to know what’s happening.

“What does the letter say?” I asked my parents.

Without them saying anything, I already had a sense of what was wanted. Sweat built up at my temples.

“It’s a, uh… request for marriage,” replied the baron lightly.

Goddammit. Today’s kicking the shit out of me. I got blood smeared on my face, complimented creepily and incessantly, became a celebrity, and now I’m being propositioned for marriage. All before I even hit puberty!

Puberty… bleeding… dammit, I’d just forgotten about that, even if only for a second…

“Marriage? What’s that?” I asked as coyly as possible. “I can’t quite remember it, but the word is familiar.”

“It’s a… it’s a union between two people in order to produce and raise an heir,” replied the baroness meekly.

“Make babies?” I asked cutely. “Sex?”

I spoke as bluntly as possible on purpose, knowing that the words coming out of my mouth would make it seem extremely gross.

“Y-Yes.” The baron said it uncomfortably. He covered his mouth with his hand while eyeing Viscount Roswell, the brat, like a vulture between the gaps of his fingers.

“Then the letter wants me to marry and have sex in exchange for money or property. With him?” I pointed at the viscount.

“When you’re of age,” affirmed Viscount Roswell. He raised his head proudly.

Yeah, I bet he’s proud. Given how my parents look, I’m going to be stunning. I’m already cute for my age, admittedly. I have eyes. And if I take after my mom, I’ll be able to feed a whole litter of children with the mounds that’ll grow on my chest.

Great, I’m depressed again... so glad I get to deal with periods and tits in the near future...

Why are you putting me through this, God? Why?

Shaking off the despair, I looked Viscount Roswell over from top to bottom before making a face.

“Gross,” I said quickly and loudly.

The entire courtyard and garden fell silent as an intense quiet consumed my surroundings.

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