I sighed. “Bodies are strange. They have elbows, knees, and legs. And women have long hair.”

  Ilya’s shoulders shook, and she covered her mouth, trying not to laugh. “That’s understandable, brother. Completely normal. My dear Daron had to teach me how to do it, too.”

  “It got better the second time,” I agreed.

  “Great!” Ilya clapped and asked, “What about the third?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “How do you know there was a third time?”

  Ilya rolled her eyes. “You are a Truechild. We do it a lot. So… how was the third, fourth, and fifth times?”

  I sighed. “The third was good. Saha made that face. I like that face.”

  “Face?”

  I nodded. “It’s a good face. It shouldn’t be. Her eyes roll back. Her tongue rolls to the side. And her mouth falls open. But… it’s beautiful?”

  Ilya tried not to laugh while looking at my confused face and said, “I see. You brought her to completion.”

  I kicked the snow and huffed. “Nobody told me she would make that face.”

  Ilya decreased her size and jumped down. “Well, I can tell you anything you want to know about intimacy, brother. I am here to help. Just talk to me.”

  I was silent for a moment. “Is getting Saha to make that face wrong?”

  “What?” Ilya blinked. “No.”

  “Then why did she kick me away?” I asked with a confused, hurt expression.

  “Hold on, brother.” Ilya put a hand on my shoulder and pulled me to sit in the snow with her. “Start at the beginning. What happened?”

  I shrugged. “The third time was good. I knew what I was doing and how to avoid knees and elbows. I just had to hold her in my arms and move. I was doing it when she made that face. I liked it, and you know…”

  “Things got messy?”

  “Yes.”

  “And then?”

  “I let her get her breath back, and we started kissing.” Recalling kissing Saha’s soft lips and feeling her tongue roll against mine, I added, “Kissing is good, by the way. It shouldn’t be. It should restrict your breath, but it is nice.”

  Ilya smiled. “Okay, so you were really into it. So, what happened?”

  I sighed. “I made her make that face again. Only for longer.”

  Ilya paused and looked at me. “How long?”

  “Thirty-seven seconds.”

  Ilya gave me a blank look. What was she thinking? Did she think I miscalculated? I defended myself.

  “Trust me. I counted.”

  “I see,” Ilya said, controlling her laugh, and asked, “And what happened before that?”

  I exhaled. “Saha… she made that face… she likes making that face. I like looking at it. So, I thought she was okay. Then she started to shake and made a sound. Like… YEEEEEEE.”

  Ilya snorted and then couldn’t control herself. She laughed. After a minute, she threw up her hands and apologized. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. It was just that sound you made.”

  I considered her words and nodded. “It’s pretty when she does it. I don’t do justice to it.”

  “Yes. That must be so. So, what happened next?”

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  “She went limp in my hands.” I shrugged and continued. “I got worried and started checking on her. She came to, kicked me in the face and chest, and ran out of the room.”

  “Blight and curses.” Ilya chuckled and looked at my frowning face. “It’s alright. She was overwhelmed. Give her some space.”

  I grunted thoughtfully.

  Ilya got up and held out her hand. I took it, and she lifted me up. “Come, let’s go back.”

  “Back?” I hesitated.

  “Are you afraid?” Ilya laughed.

  I didn’t laugh. My thoughts raced a mile a minute. Why did I want to be with Saha and be scared to see her? Why were relationships so complicated? Why was living so complicated? I gave Ilya a confused look.

  “Oh, the mighty Voss Truechild. He kills three damned permanently and is afraid of the little human woman he is in love with.”

  “Love?” I tasted the word. It felt heavy. Meaningful and complicated. I didn’t know what to think about it.

  “Come, brother. Come. Let me take you back to your love,” Ilya said in a teasing tone.

  I frowned.

  “Excuse me, your grace. Your Highness.” A man’s voice called out to us.

  Ilya whirled, with a lance of wind in her hand.

  I threw up my hands. “Stop.” I looked at the punisher and pointed at him. “Mouth. Good.”

  Ilya stopped and looked at me in bafflement. “What?”

  Grek Grisslow, a punisher in the imperial guard, looked at me—his Highness Voss Truechild—and somehow understood exactly what I meant. As I had noticed, he was a good mouth.

  Grek raised his hands in surrender and explained, “Your grace, I think what Prince Voss means to say is that I am a good translator.”

  Ilya let go of her magic, and it dispersed into mana mist. She looked at me. “For you?”

  I nodded.

  “Oh, you are the guy with the communication token.” Ilya nodded. “Thanks for following this crazy dolt around. So, what do you want, punisher?”

  “The body, my lady.” Grek pointed at the dead body lying in the snow and continued. “Also, my lord, my lady, the General has set up a communication portal with His Majesty. He awaits you at the throne.”

  “Oh dung!” Ilya cursed.

  I walked over, grabbed the dead infiltrator’s body, and carried it with us down the steps. For the first few steps, we were quiet, busy in our thoughts—but I had guessed wrong. Ilya turned to the punisher and asked,

  “So, Mister Mouth, how much did you hear?” Ilya smirked.

  “All of it, my lady.” Grek didn’t hesitate.

  “So, what do you think about the thirty-seven seconds?” Ilya asked the punisher, and I stumbled a bit.

  Grek Grisslow sighed and asked, “Can I be frank, my lord?”

  I nodded.

  “I have known Lady Saha Voss for six years now. She is truly loved and respected around the fortress. She truly cares for you, and I can see you care deeply for her. I am glad she is enjoying your company, your Highness. Having said that, please don’t melt her brain.”

  Ilya snorted and covered her mouth. I walked past them. These two were no help.

  Ten minutes later, I was standing in front of the fortress building with Saha fussing all around me. She dragged me in while ordering three servants. She hugged me and then noticed my wounds.

  I wasn’t hurt. Not really. But I had been in a brawl with imperial soldiers, and I had been hit with plenty of magic and blades. Even my mana-hardened stone skin had parted after repeated stabs and slashes. Magic, on the other hand, was not as deadly to me—it didn’t hurt as much. Maybe Father had been right. I needed to get out there and get into deadly situations to figure out what else I could do.

  “Voss!” Saha stepped in front of me with a raised finger. The finger pointed at my nose and ordered, “Stop!”

  I stopped. That finger was deadly, and I didn’t want to get poked by it.

  “You are hurt.” Saha turned and pointed at a chair in the hall. “Now. Sit there and let the healers bandage you.”

  I wasn’t hurt, and I was healing already, but I didn’t want to disappoint that finger. I shut up and did what was asked of me.

  Behind me, Saha shot a rapid series of orders.

  “What is this? I said get the lord a new tunic, not a gray nighttime one. The lord is meeting with the emperor,” Saha berated the woman in front of her. “Get me one in house colors.”

  Saha turned to another woman. “Where is the tea? Can’t you see that the lord has just stepped out of the blizzard? Give him something to warm himself.”

  “Speaking of which.” Saha turned to the third woman. “Where are the towels? Do I have to do everything myself?”

  Saha raised her voice at the end, and the servants ran.

  Saha turned her eyes to the man standing next to me and narrowed them.

  “Grek? What are you just standing there for?”

  Grek stood his ground and bowed. “Lady Voss. I have been appointed as His Highness’s translator.”

  “Translator?” Saha pursed her lips.

  Grek hesitated and looked at me.

  I nodded. “Mouth. He talks good.”

  “Oh, does he now?” Saha’s voice cooled as she looked at Grek.

  She finally greeted the man. “Grisslow.”

  Grek smiled and nodded. “Voss.”

  “I should punch you,” Saha snarled.

  “Now, now, Lady Voss. You would do that to a simple punisher?”

  “You were behind the transfer!”

  Grek nodded. “Yes, I was.”

  Saha took a step back and looked at Grek in surprise.

  Grek sighed. “He wanted to sell off images of your intimate moments. I had to protect you and the duchy.”

  “Who?” I asked in a rumbling voice, and the armrest of the chair I was sitting on creaked and splintered.

  The imperial physicus working on me yelped and scampered back. The woman bringing me a jug of tea paled and almost dropped it. The soldiers guarding me paled and took a few steps back from the wave of cold that rushed out of me.

  Grek didn’t move. He took the wave of cold and dispersed it before it could hit him. “A merchant noble. He found the lady in the capital at a vulnerable time, my lord. Plied her with drinks and...”

  “Grek!” Saha hissed and whispered. “My lord is jealous and possessive.”

  “I can see that.” The punisher smirked and pointed at the waves of cold emanating from me.

  I couldn’t help it. Someone had gotten my Saha drunk, taken advantage of her, and decided to sell naked images of her? I wanted to get up right now, find this cretin, and rip his head off. The only reason I wasn’t charging toward the scum was that I needed to find out who and where he was.

  Saha waved at everyone and ordered, “Give us some space.”

  People scampered away.

  Saha sighed. She walked to me and sat down on my uninjured thigh. She looked me in the eyes and stroked my cheek with her soft palm. She closed the gap between us and kissed me.

  I kissed her back. I needed to somehow make things right for her. But first…

  “Saha, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to. I should have stopped.”

  Saha looked at me for a minute, and then realization dawned in her eyes. “Oh… don’t apologize.”

  No, I had to. I didn’t know being a Truechild was this complicated. Father had made us irresistible to everyone around us. When we were aroused, we released something called a pheromone into the air. And if that wasn’t enough, our mana vibrations changed. The result was that our partners lost all their inhibitions with us.

  I hadn’t known all that before I spoke to my sister, but now I had to be careful with Saha.

  “Voss, seriously, stop apologizing. I am not made of glass.” Saha softened her tone and continued. “I liked it. You understand? I was just not prepared for it to be so overwhelming. But now that I am… well, you have something to look forward to when we get some time alone.”

  I looked deep into her eyes. “I lo...”

  The hall doors flew open.

  A thin man in dark green leather armor entered the hall and looked around. He looked at Ilya, who was standing on the stairs of the throne. He smiled and bowed theatrically.

  The thin man took off his helmet to show his long ears and announced, “My lords. My ladies. We Sylvari present you His Grace, Sage Truechild.”

  A dozen people entered the hall behind the elf. All of them were elves in the same green armor, and they were carrying a netted and bound Sage in his full form. Sage had a shocked look on his face, carved onto his features.

  They dropped him unceremoniously on the floor and began walking out.

  Ilya rushed to Sage’s side and asked, “What did you do to him?”

  The elf turned around and looked at Ilya. “Elves are masters of mana, Duchess. Mana-born shouldn’t mess with elves. Specifically, not their princesses.”

  Ilya stiffened. “You have attacked a Truechild, elf.”

  The elf turned back fully. “Careful, Duchess. If you press, then the Sylvari will press back.”