“Blasted Northerners. Always one hand on the sword. We should never have stolen those tomes.” – Abel, infamous Shard of Tenebrous to Brutus, Dictator of Primus

  The party began in earnest. Soon the droning of pipes and strings filled the square with jovial flair. Large dishes poured out with fine meats, cheeses, and cakes. Where there was reverence was now excitement and joy. The centermost part of the square became the main stage for dancing.

  “I’m going to find Padre Angelos. Wish me luck,” said Martin as he walked off.

  Leo nodded. He had things to do as well. He found his way to the caskets of ale. Generale Augustino and the other capitani were there with him. Nico gave him a mug.

  Augustino raised his glass. “To victory! To the Guardia Grifone!”

  The others raised their mugs. “Hear, hear!”

  “Don’t tell me you toasted without me?” said a snobbish voice striding up to the group.

  Leo inwardly groaned. Principe Filippo was a fat, spoiled man who looked older than he was. His greasy brown hair was balding, and his cheeks were flushed. His garb was of fine green silks and raven livery, but their generale looked more like the nobile out of the group.

  Two bulky thugs flanked him with gruff beards and sheathed daggers. Leo scoffed. Apparently, the wealthy ruling famiglia of Raveno couldn’t afford actual bodyguards. Principe Filippo clapped his hands. “Another round, please.” His presence instantly killed the mood, but everyone eagerly went for more ale to drink down the awkwardness. They gulped down several rounds before Leo wandered away, the buzz from the booze taking hold.

  The festivities went long into the night. A slower tune began to play, and various couples, including Generale Augustino and Julia, began to dance. She wore her best, an elegant long red dress and a red headdress covering her greying hair. They smiled lovingly at each other and quickly became the show’s stars. Everyone rushed to copy their moves. Leo never expected a soldier type to be so accustomed to dancing. Life is just full of surprises.

  Elsewhere, he saw Salvatore, who had taken the children and their mothers far away from the ale caskets. Good man. The griffon was with him, giving rides to excited young children and hopping a couple of feet off the ground gently.

  Martin was also there, and Leo could see him nodding excitedly as he spoke with the padre. His plan seems to have worked. How strange. Surely Salvatore wasn’t so gullible? Then again, Godshards worked in mysterious ways. Across the square, Leo saw the glowing eyes of Avella; she was staring at him. The sight made him uncomfortable. Just like the Benelim commander earlier. He was getting weary of these glares. He wished they would just say something or leave him alone.

  A firm hand grasped his shoulder. “Leo.” The voice was icy and familiar.

  Elizabeth looked stern as ever. He could smell the alcohol on her breath, but her eyes kept a keen focus. “Can we talk for a moment? Alone?”

  There it was, the harbinger of an unpleasant chat. Leo yawned and said, “Sure.” He knew there was no way she’d take no for an answer. Best to just get it over with. The two of them walked to a secluded area; the lights faded, and the music grew silent. They finally stopped when they were nearly out of the square altogether. “Alright, what do you want?”

  “Anna wants us to talk. She wants me to apologize for the gatehouse incident earlier.”

  Leo raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

  A tense pause filled the air as Leo waited expectantly.

  “Stay away from her.”

  Leo rolled his eyes. “Liz, I had to go to the apothecary for a wound. I didn’t even know she was dating you until tonight!”

  Elizabeth got dangerously close. “You flirted with her.”

  “Until I knew she was with someone else. Then I stopped immediately.”

  “Good thing, ’cause that’s the only reason you’re still conscious.”

  Leo’s brow furrowed. “You know that’s a line I’d never cross. Do you really think so little of me?”

  Elizabeth huffed. “It wouldn’t be the first time you broke a promise.”

  Leo closed the distance. Their faces were inches apart. “I had no choice, Liz. After that battle, I just couldn’t anymore. They’re dead because of you!”

  “They knew the risks!”

  Leo jabbed a finger at her and said, “You were reckless and foolish and disobeyed orders!”

  Elizabeth shrunk back, the anger in her cold gaze giving way to sadness. “We made a promise to each other! No matter what happens, no matter who gets in our way, we’d stick together. Did you forget that?”

  They stared each other down, panting. Leo broke first, and he backed away. “It wasn’t the first time, Liz. I’m sorry, but I just . . . couldn’t anymore.”

  “I’m warning you,” Elizabeth said, pointing a finger, the simmering anger returning. “Stay away from her. I don’t want to see you near her ever again.”

  Leo raised his arms. “Don’t worry; I’ll keep my distance. In fact, I’m happy for you. How long have you been with her?”

  Elizabeth shrugged. “Six months.”

  Leo gave a shaky smile. “That’s great! Really. I’m glad you’re moving on.”

  Elizabeth cringed. “Did you think I wouldn’t still be mad at you since I’m with someone else now?” Leo paused. That made dreadful sense, and he had nothing to say. Elizabeth closed the distance once more. “You broke my heart, Leo, and no matter who I’m with, I’ll never forgive you for that.”

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  With that, she stormed off. Leo pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned up against the wall. He took deep breaths to try and calm his racing heart. She was determined to ruin his night somehow, wasn’t she?

  The noise began to pick up, drawing Leo’s attention. There was a commotion by the ale barrels. Annabelle was there, mugs in her hands. And there was none other than Principe Filippo uncomfortably close and staring lustfully. He was flirting with her, despite her utter lack of interest. His bodyguards were there, and they weren’t paying attention.

  “I told you; I’m not interested.” Annabelle tried to shift away more and more. For every step she took back, he took one forward. Her back pressed against a barrel, and he cornered her in.

  “Oh, come now, don’t be like that. I can show you a good time.” His paw of a hand caressed her thigh, causing her to cringe.

  “Stay away from her!” Elizabeth tore his arm away and pushed him back.

  Filippo snarled. “Don’t you dare lay a hand on me!”

  “But it’s okay if you put your hands on people?”

  “I am Principe of these lands! Your city is under my father’s domain. I can do as I please!”

  “You will not touch her again!”

  He looked Elizabeth over and snorted. “Go back to the north, barbaric harlot.”

  With blazing speed Elizabeth struck, punching him square in the jaw and knocking him out. His head hit the barrels, and he tumbled to the ground.

  Everything stopped for a moment. The music paused, and the various dancers halted. People could be heard giggling or gasping. Leo smirked; it was supremely cathartic to see Principe Filippo get some.

  “How dare you!” One of his thugs struck Elizabeth in the face. She backed up, stunned momentarily, and spat out blood. She stiffened, and her eyes deadened.

  He threw another punch, one that was easily blocked. A jab quickly followed, hitting him in the stomach. He made an airless gasp and nearly fell over.

  He growled and swung his fists wildly; Elizabeth dodged and blocked each blow. She returned the favor swiftly. A punch to the ribs, a kick to the crotch. She grasped his head and punted it with her knee several times, tearing cartilage with a crunch. She finished him off with a kick to his chest, knocking him into a table and breaking it into pieces. She adjusted her hat with a dismissive scoff. Leo chuckled to himself. He missed watching her work. It was good to see she hadn’t lost her edge.

  She grumbled and turned to the other thug, who was pulling the unconscious Filippo away. Her fists were up. “You want some too?”

  The man shook his head and said, “Don’t be surprised if this night haunts you.”

  “Don’t worry about us,” she replied. Elizabeth wrapped her arms around Annabelle and took one of her ales, gulping it down. The two of them walked past Michael. “What are you looking at?” He had seen the whole thing and was slack-jawed with a fierce blush on his face, much to the chagrin of the woman he was with.

  “Thanks again, dear,” murmured Annabelle. She placed her hand on Elizabeth’s bleeding mouth, muttering a spell, causing her hand to glow softly. The wound was healed in moments as if it had never happened. Elizabeth kissed her hand before letting it go. The two of them sat down. Elizabeth was happy to get that out of her system. Especially after talking to Leo. “Did you talk to him?”

  Elizabeth shrugged. “I did.”

  “You didn’t apologize to him, did you?”

  “I just made things clear. He’s not going to bother you again.” Annabelle frowned. “What?”

  “That’s not what I told you to do, Liz.”

  Elizabeth kicked her feet up on the table. “Relax, I just had to tell him what he needed to hear.”

  Annabelle sighed. “All I’m going to say is I know how a bad person reads; Leo doesn’t read that way to me.”

  “Yeah, I know the Soulsight; we’ve discussed this before.”

  “Can you please trust me then?”

  Elizabeth turned to her. Annabelle was giving her a stern eye, and she knew what that meant. “Fine, I won’t start any more trouble. I promise.” She kissed Annabelle on the cheek before glancing at her empty mug. “Want another ale?”

  Annabelle smirked. “You’re not going to get me drunk, Liz; Shards don’t get drunk easily.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Elizabeth said, laughing as she went back to the barrels.

  Salvatore was there, and he was aghast at the mess. Filippo was still unconscious, and his body was being dragged out of the square. He saw Elizabeth coming and instantly rushed to her. His usual calm demeanor was gone, and this put Elizabeth on edge. “What have you done, Elizabeth?”

  “I protected my friend from a pervert who didn’t understand the word no.”

  “You broke his jaw.”

  Elizabeth sighed. “Am I in trouble?”

  Salvatore shook his head. “You were protecting your friend, and Principe Filippo started it. His acting like a bigot didn’t help. But I’m not the person you need to be worried about. It’s Signore Alessandro you need to be concerned with.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “You breaking his son’s jaw is going to be that sticking point for them, and the fact that you had already rescued Annabelle before hitting him . . . You have no idea what you might have set into motion! I will do what I can, but I might not be able to save you this time.”

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes and said, “I can handle myself; I don’t need your help. Especially since you’re getting yourself worked up over it.”

  Salvatore grumbled. “You’re going to find out soon that your actions have consequences and will affect more than just you. They will hurt those you hold dear the most, and this time you will have no one else to blame or scapegoat. And when that day comes, I hope it will finally open your eyes.”

  Elizabeth clenched her fists. She wanted to strike him for that, but she promised Anna she wouldn’t cause any more trouble. Elizabeth refused to break her promises; that’s what made her better than Leo. “You don’t know anything about me.”

  She refilled the ales and headed back to Annabelle. She was keeled over and groaning, her face nearly on the table. Elizabeth dropped the mugs and rushed to her side. “What’s wrong?”

  Annabelle pointed toward the crowd. More Benelim had arrived. Yellow and blue glowing eyes had entered the square like shooting stars. They wore olive green silken togas, and they held wine bottles in their hands. “So bright, like fire.”

  Elizabeth helped her to her feet. “Easy, easy, don’t worry, I’m here. I’ll get you home.” Together the two of them limped from the square.

  Leo saw the commotion and tilted his head. Surely Godshards can handle being around Benelim? He shrugged; at least that got Elizabeth out of there and out of his hair.

  “Greetings again, Leo!”

  Speaking of Benelim, Leo thought. He turned and saw Petro. His armor was gone, replaced with a golden-brown toga. Another Benelim was with him. He was shorter, and his antlers were smaller. “This is my kin, cousin Ioannes Mercator. He frequently trades in Tressviae. We decided to stop by for the celebration. It’s good that this occasion happened before I sail to Raveno. We ship off tomorrow.”

  “I see,” Leo was off-put by his casual demeanor. They had just met, and it wasn’t exactly an amicable meeting on his end. Then again, what did he expect from a Benelim? That’s just how they were, for good or for ill. Looking around, he saw the Benelim offering wine to various patrons, who accepted them gladly. They began to dance and sing together. At least the Benelim knew how to party.

  Petro sighed and said, “I saw that blonde lady leave as we arrived. I wish I could have apologized to her; we didn’t mean to cause her distress.”

  Leo grumbled. “Trust me, it’s for the best. You get within ten feet of her, and her girlfriend will send you to the apothecary.”

  “That’s a loyal and caring friend she has. The exact person a Pars Minima needs.”

  “A what?”

  “Pars Minima. That’s what we call them, anyway. Your people call them Shardlings. She has a tiny shard of Omnitus. Enough to be called a Godshard but not enough to do much of anything. Plus, she still gets the problems. Her inability to control her Soulsight is one of them. Hence being around us caused her pain.”

  Leo shrugged. The alcohol was really getting to him, and he had difficulty paying attention. Everything was starting to spin ever so slightly. Perhaps it was time for him to leave too.

  With a clumsy wave, he stumbled out of the square. After nearly falling over several times before even turning a corner, he knew it would be a long walk home.