The Duke’s Reborn Daughter Sometimes Chooses Violence.

“My Lady, you are fidgeting again.” Anias’ voice was gentle but firm as she adjusted the final pin in my hair. “After everything I have seen you face these past two weeks, I am surprised a little silk and powder can unsettle you so.”

Two weeks. The words still tasted like ash. Two weeks since the tunnels beneath Indri Manor, since Violet’s scream. Since I’d helped her plunge a Godblade into her father’s heart and then lied to half the kingdom to protect her. Two weeks of playing Acting Head of House while Violet recovered and then trained Sere. Two weeks since I’d remembered who I really was. Or, had been.

Was there a difference?

It was hard not to squirm. The pins pulled at my scalp, the corset squeezed every breath, and the powder on my skin felt like a second mask.

My usually unruly white hair had been tamed, swept up into an intricate braided crown that rested heavily on my head, held in place by delicate silver pins. Then there was the dress. It was a gown of midnight-black silk that felt entirely too expensive even to breathe in. It clung to me tight. Silver thread climbed up the bodice in elegant, twisting vines.

The makeup was another thing.

Anias and the other maids had shown some restraint. A light dusting of powder gave my naturally sickly skin a more ethereal, healthy glow. I had obviously known I was a Noble Lady; this was perhaps the first time I had well and truly felt it.

“It’s hard to believe all of this is necessary just for a simple debut,” I murmured.

“A Noble Lady’s debut is anything but simple.” Anias corrected immediately. I had known she would. It was just some light teasing. “It’s said to be the most important day in a young Lady’s life, save for the day she is to be married.”

“Let us pray the wedding takes its time then,” I commented. “This is remarkably harder to move in. How much did this cost again?”

“Thirty Thousand Imperial Marks, Lady Esra,” Anias murmured.

Just hearing that made me wince. Now that I’d had time to acquaint myself better with House Veyne’s finances, I knew that thirty thousand marks was a drop in the ocean, but it still felt needlessly excessive.

I heard an odd scrambling from somewhere behind me. The door opened. The scrambling turned into muffled protests.

“My Lady is busy right now! Please-”

I paused and stared at the mirror. In the reflection, I saw a maid trying to ward off Sere from...peeking inside?

“Let her in.” I projected my voice with mana. “I told you to treat her like you would me, did I not?”

The maid’s face blanched. She hastily bowed, letting Sere through. I was sure the maid had good enough intentions, but her actions still annoyed me. The maids were now much nicer to me, which made their odd indifference to Sere all the more frustrating.

I suppose that commanding someone to do a thing was one thing, making them forget years or decades of behavior was another.

She was wearing a grey, buttoned-up tunic as she usually did now. That had taken some getting used to. I had tried to get her to try wearing something else, but each time I did, Sere had looked like she’d wanted to either yell at me or cry, and so I had accepted it.

It was doubtless from one of the books she’d read here, though I didn’t remember seeing its like before.

Sere was staring at my reflection, wide-eyed.

“Hey, tell me how it looks!” I grinned at her. Just seeing her was enough to make some of the dread pass.

She stepped forward and pulled out a small notepad she always kept in her pocket now. She started to scribble before holding out the paper. It was the wrong way around, thanks to the reflection. Still, I could make out the word.

Pretty.

“Thank you. The maids worked very hard.” Anias cleared her throat, and so I added: “Anias most of all.”

“There is just one thing left,” Anias murmured. A large dark box floated forward on threads of purple mana. Inside lay dozens of lipsticks, each marked with a thin, colored ribbon.

“You have been…very thorough, Anias.”

“My Lady, I have waited for this day a very long time. Anything less would shame us both.”

Sere’s small hand reached into the box, but she winced and pressed her side, as if in pain, for just a heartbeat. She quickly hid it, then pulled out a single tube of lipstick.

The color she chose was a violent red. The exact shade of my eyes. The precise shade of the gemstone on my Godblade. Perhaps that was simply me reading into it what I wished to.

“You want me to wear this one?” I asked.

Sere nodded so hard her braid bounced.

“My Lady,” Anias said carefully, “that shade may be a touch…sharp for a debut. Something softer might-”

Sere’s shoulders sank.

I took the tube before Anias could finish. In the mirror, I watched myself apply it - slow, deliberate strokes. The red made my eyes look brighter. Hungrier?

“This works, does it not?”

Anias nodded somewhat reluctantly before smiling. Hers was a calmer, more… motherly smile, I think. “My Lady’s beauty will surely put many others to shame.” Anias cleared her throat. “Though, perhaps it would be wise to leave soon. I admit I got a little…overeager in making sure My Lady was ready for this.”

I giggled at that. Overeager was an understatement. I had been here for hours, and most of that time had been spent giving me a look, wiping it away, giving me a different look, and wiping it away again. It seemed that I was a particularly unruly canvas, and Anias was a particularly perfectionist painter.

“I appreciate it, Anias.” I smiled. Anias stepped back, and I took that as the sign that I could finally stand up.

I stretched my arms, sighed. Anias was staring at me. “I uh…won’t be doing this at the event. Don’t worry.”

I noticed Sere staring at me with…sadness? I turned to her, feeling a tinge of that sadness myself. “I’m sorry. If I could take you, I would.”

I had told her this before, in the days leading up to this event. The day actually coming up did make things different. Sere huffed a little, looked away. She looked back at me out of the corner of her eyes and looked away again.

“I’ll bring you something nice,” I promised. “I’ve heard they’ll have new sweets. There’s a new bakery in the capital, and I heard they’re catering. Everyone’s talking about it. I’ll make sure to bring you the best ones, okay?”

Sere looked at me again, this time with a brighter smile. She nodded, looked down at her notepad, and started to scribble. She turned it around.

Promise?

“It’s a promise.”

Anias cleared her throat softly behind me. “Then we should not keep the capital waiting, My Lady. Lord Damian is already at the carriage, and the Grand Hall will be full by the time we arrive.”

I nodded, turned to Sere again. “Wish me luck?”

Sere paused, reached for her notepad. Her pencil worked for a few strokes before she set it down, came forward, and hugged me. It took me a second to gently wrap my own arms around hers. Then, she pulled back. More of my dread faded at that.

“Thank you, Sere.”

Sere followed me as I made my way out, though I quickly noticed she had disappeared somewhere when I looked back. Odd.

I’d have expected her to want to see me off. Maybe she was more upset than I’d thought? Maids and manservants bowed as soon as they saw me, keeping their posture even after I’d left them behind. Their stares followed me as I walked. That was still not something I’d get used to any time soon.

Damian was waiting exactly where Anias had said he would be -leaning against the carriage with his arms crossed, formal black-and-silver coat buttoned high, hair actually combed for once. He straightened the moment he saw me, eyes widening for half a heartbeat before he caught himself.

“You look…different.” He said, finally.

“Now that’s high praise coming from you.” I smiled back, turned to Anias at my side. “Let us be off then.”

The temperature in the Veyne District had gone down considerably. I hadn’t known it at the time, but tensions had been close to their boiling point thanks to Duke Greenward’s restrictions. My measures had alleviated them somewhat, but I’d always known they were putting a bandage over what was a gaping wound.

He had lifted those restrictions, and the tension had eased almost immediately. There was still a little bit of tension in the air, but the streets looked much the same as they had when I’d first gone outside the manor.

Sellers hawked their wares at stalls, criers tried to draw people to shops. Men and women moved between the streets, children at their sides. Perhaps it was just my imagination, but I didn’t see many people who weren’t human.

I’d occasionally spot a Dwarf, marked more by their height than anything else. There were no Lizardmen, no Beastkin, no Elves. I’d occasionally spot a Karr, usually one engaged in some manual labor or other.

“I had half-expected that mon- that Lady to come with you.” Damian finally said. So far, we had been riding in silence.

“Hey, I did catch that.” I chided, looking over at him. “And it would be dangerous for us to come in the same carriage. There are rumors enough that House Indri and House Veyne are now of one mind. I’d rather not fuel them any further.”

“They aren’t?”

I rolled my eyes. “Damian, I just want to live my life as peacefully as possible. I’ve read the papers too. I have no interest in shaking things up again.”

Damian smirked, making it obvious that he had simply been teasing. That smirk slowly faded as he looked outside the carriage, too.

“Is that girl still trying to break Sere in half every morning?”

“She does have a name, Damian.” I sighed. “And yes, I believe she is. As to how it’s going…I’m not really sure myself. Violet’s finally stopped calling her ‘tiny ghost’ and started calling her ‘tiny pain in my ass.’”

Damian snorted. “Well, that’s high praise coming from her.”

There was silence for a time as we both stared outside. Our carriage passed the checkpoint between the Veyne and Greenward Districts with no fuss at all. Magical Implements lit the darkened streets, almost all of them giving off a faint, green glow.

Our own District had been blue. An odd way to distinguish the Districts, but I had long since stopped trying to make sense of how nobles thought.

“And…are you okay?” Damian finally asked, his tone making it clear that’s what he’d actually wanted to ask all this time.

“I…” I chewed on my bottom lip. “I’m getting better.” That much was true. I’d gone over the memories dozens of times over, enough that even they’d started to lose some of their color, some of their pain. That didn’t keep me from waking up in a cold sweat every other night, but it was a start.

“You did go through a lot. Give it time. I doubt anyone’s had an adventure like this even at the Crownspire Royal Academy.”

“I wouldn’t quite call it an adventure,” I said good-naturedly. “But I’ll concede the point.”

“And what about….” Damian looked at me, made a gesture of opening and closing his palm.

I shrugged one shoulder, careful not to disturb the pins. “Still can’t,” I confirmed. To test, I reached out to that space in my mind.

Liar.

There was no pain, but there was the distinct sensation of the Godblade brushing me off.

“What an inconvenient weapon.”

I sighed deeply. “Tell me about it.”

Our carriage slowed. Usually, the streets didn’t have many carriages. Today was something of an exception. Duke Greenward had called for a large party in his daughter’s honor and had invited essentially every noble family in the city, and probably some beyond it, too.

This was something of a tradition -all of the Five Ducal families usually had at least a few events every year. None of them were usually this…excessive.

I saw several carriages, both in front of and behind our own, and in the distance. The destination came into view as we rounded a corner.

Through the window, I saw the lights of the Grand Hall long before the building itself, a golden blaze against the night sky, crystal chandeliers visible even from the outer gates. The building looked like it had been carved from pure white stone, its skin marked by green streaks. Carriages lined the approach like glittering beetles.

Nobles spilt out in silks and jewels. Then, there were all of the reporters who crowded around the entrance.

I did see several Scrylens -they were large, rectangular boxes hoisted up on tripods. Each Scrylens was almost as big as I was.

Our carriage stopped altogether. Anias moved to my side -she had been sitting with the coachman. “My Lady, it would be far faster to walk from here.”

I nodded as she opened the door and moved to step out. Damian blocked my path, getting out first. He held out a hand. “I am your retainer, remember.”

I met his eyes. For once, there was no teasing in them - just the strange, stubborn loyalty of a boy who had once tried to break me in a sparring ring and ended up swearing his life to me instead.

I took his hand as he helped me out. He fell behind me, to my left. Anias fell to my right. We made our way through the street. People gawked at us as we walked, Anias’ mana moving them out of the way.

It felt a little excessive, but I didn’t say anything.

Ahead of us, the Grand Hall loomed - towering marble columns, banners in green fluttering in the breeze, the crest of House Greenward prominent above the entrance. This was the hall used for all significant noble functions in the city, and the hosting family always took the chance to leave their mark on the building.

Hundreds of eyes turned our way as soon as they spotted me; most of them were reporters, many of them were other nobles.

Karr Guards stepped in front of people long before anyone actually approached me, creating a physical barrier. A red carpet cut through the crowd, leading over to the entrance.

I felt the pin pricks of mana from all around me, like a hundred tiny needles on my skin all at once. I was told that this was the sign everyone felt when a Scrylens was being used, especially when it faced them. It was far more uncomfortable than the pins in my hair were.

How did nobles ever get used to such a thing? How did anyone? It wasn’t the flash of light I had read about, a long time ago.

“…the Veyne girl…”

“…look at that red…”

“...the Indri girl isn’t with her…”

“...that must be the Second Son….”

That and more comments were half-heard and quickly forgotten. I tried to ignore them, anyway. This was a rather absurd amount of scrutiny. It made me tense. I reached out for my Gift.

I felt Damian’s firm hand on my shoulder. “It’s alright. Don’t look at them. It gets easier.”

I smiled as he withdrew his hand, stopping my mana. We made our way up the stairs. Noble Ladies and Men stopped and stared at us. There were quite a few boys and girls our age, too. They stared in the same way their parents did.

“I don’t see her anywhere, My Lady,” Anias said, no question who she meant. She was talking about Violet.

As it happened, today was Violet’s debut into Noble Society as well.

“Somehow, that only makes me more worried,” I commented dryly. If there was one thing that worried me most of all at a gathering like this, it was definitely Violet Indri.

People were watching, perhaps more people were watching me now than had ever, in both this life and the last combined.

I smiled. A sharp, yet subtle thing.

I walked inside the Great Hall.