Rain battered down on the city of Sharpsburg. It was the only settlement larger than a town in Armand's current holdings, and the noble was currently sitting in a candle-lit room inside of his manor at the center of it. The boy was constantly looking over his shoulder as if someone might sneak up behind him.

"Even behind city walls, I still feel naked without some kind of fortress around me," Armand thought. "I should just relax now that the vampire's dead, but I can't."

Dipping a quill pen in an inkpot, Armand put it on a piece of paper. Numerous files were on the table in front of him, filled with various pieces of administrative data.

As the boy wrote, thunder struck outside. He took a quick glance to make sure none of the buildings were set on fire before returning to his work.

"My lands are doing well. My spies confirmed that Eris freed all the serfs in her lands. They can't find any signs of anyone in my family plotting against me. And I haven't found any evidence that anyone is going to invade me. Even some of my enemies seem to be stalled or have reached a standstill. Things should be easy going until my wedding with Eris next year," Armand contemplated.

When he finished writing on that piece of paper, Armand pulled out another one and read through it. This was a basic report of the harvests, along with the taxes he would collect from them. Everything was in order. So, Armand signed it and moved on to another report.

"Training among my household mercenaries is going well. Rozwialzly and Marshal Staufer are still on good terms with me. But I can't relax, not when I don't know what Eris is planning."

A chill went down his spine.

"She has to be plotting something. I know her too well. And there's no damn way my spies would learn everything. Any moment now, she might...Eris loves me. I need to remember that. Her plans would be good for me. But not necessarily for others."

There was a sudden knock on the door. It jolted Armand out of his thoughts. He turned towards the room's entrance with a furrowed brow. Armand kept his hands near his rapier and pistol.

"Who is it?" the boy asked.

"A messenger, My Lord," a voice on the other side answered. "I've got a letter for you from a Lady Eris Hapsburg."

"Speak of Typhon," Armand thought before speaking. "Slide it under the door. Then, leave."

"Of course, My Lord."

The messenger did as commanded. Armand listened intently, hearing the man's footsteps over the rain. He grabbed the letter and brought it back to his desk the moment he was sure the messenger was gone. Then, the boy inspected the seal on it.

"From the House of Hapsburg. Let's see what Eris has to say."

He confirmed before reading aloud.

"To my dearest Armand,

It has been so long since we've met. I miss you dearly. I've heard that you've taken up residence in Sharpsburg for the Harvest Festival, and I just couldn't help myself. I'm coming over there, and I'll be bringing some friends along with me. I hope to see you soon.

Your beloved, Eris."

Armand burst out laughing. It took him a few minutes to calm down, and he wiped a tear away from his eyes. The boy shook his head.

"Eris bringing friends over? Eris having friends? No, that's utterly absurd."

Then, Armand's expression turned dead serious.

"Eris is incapable of having friends. She knows this, and she knows I know this. This letter is also shorter than Eris' usual correspondence. Did she even write it?"

Armand examined the message again. He pulled out a previous letter Eris sent him and compared the two. The boy scratched his chin as a grimace crossed his face.

"This is Eris' handwriting. I know of one spell that can replicate handwriting, and as far as I know, I'm the only person in Foldzar who knows it. Eris almost certainly sent this letter."

A concerned expression crossed the boy's face.

"Eris wouldn't send a letter like this if she wasn't coming over for the Harvest Festival. But more importantly, she is trying to tell me something with it. Who is she bringing over? She wouldn't bother telling me about her bringing guards. Maybe it's someone Eris is trying to manipulate or was forced into working with? Or perhaps..."

A new thought came to Armand.

"...this letter was just as much for those people as it was for me? Eris knows I wouldn't fall for the 'I just couldn't help myself' excuse. She wouldn't even need to give it. I do love Eris, and she loves me, but this message implies that we have a very different relationship than we actually do."

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Then, a conclusion formed in his mind.

"If Eris wrote a letter like this, it means she was either worried about it being intercepted or someone read it before she sent it. Whether the people she's bringing are new allies or enemies she's manipulating remains to be seen. Either way, for now, I should play along."

Armand pulled down several sheets of paper and wrote on them. Instructions filled their pages. When the boy finished, he walked over to the door and knocked on it.

"Yes, my Lord?" one of his guards spoke.

"I have some instructions I need sent out," Armand slid the papers under the door. "Preparations for the Harvest Festival."

He walked back to his desk as he spoke, raising his voice so his men could still hear him.

"Something come up?" the guard asked.

"Yes," Armand answered.

The boy sat down and kept looking through the various reports. His unease hadn't been lifted, and even more stress filled him.

"My fiance is coming. We need to give her a grand welcome, on my honor as a noble and for my love of her," Armand spoke before thinking. "And to trick whoever she really wrote that letter for."

Eris' horse strode through the dirt road. She wore a large cloak as the rain dropped around her. Several mercenaries traveled with the girl. And they weren't the only ones.

A trio of people in more common clothes, two men and a woman, were with Eris too. But the girl's sharp mind had already examined their clothing. A realization came to her.

"None of these three are peasants. The two male commoners are dressed like tradesmen. And the female is attired like some townie's wife. I wonder how many of these revolutionaries are farmers?" Eris pondered.

Gazing back at the three, Eris noticed that they seemed nervous. Suspicion flashed through her mind.

"My Lady," the largest of the commoners spoke up. "May we speak to you in private?"

An unamused expression crossed Eris' face.

"Is this about the mercenaries again?" she questioned.

"It..."

He looked at Eris' men before continuing.

"...might be a bit bad if someone from the home base knows you brought them."

Eris grimaced.

"This is the fifth time he brought this up. Is he stupid enough that he thinks any noble would give up their personal guard when traveling across the countryside? Is this part of some plot to kill me? Or did my mercenaries really off put him this much?" she thought before speaking. "Why, my good Jakub..."

"Jacob."

"Yes, Jacob. If my fiance found out that I gave up my personal guards, even for a time, at your request, what do you think he would do to you and your comrades?" Eris asked.

She hid a smile.

"Hopefully, this will shut him up," the girl thought.

Jacob hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"Your fiance might be a bit of a weirdo, but he's the closest thing to a good lord we've got. He wouldn't do anything too bad, would he?" the commoner said.

"No He'd just find some excuse to kill you," Eris replied. "And if we cannot convince him otherwise, Armand might just do that anyway. He loves me so much that if I was in the slightest danger, he would never forgive whoever put me in it."

Jacob gulped. Eris turned her attention back on the road. Then, the woman, Eris thought her name was something like Natalya, spoke.

"I have a question, My Lady."

"And that would be?" Eris asked, still keeping her eyes forward.

"Why are you and your mercs the only ones with horses? Couldn't you have gotten us some?"

Eris shrugged.

"My funds are tied up with my lands. And I only have one horse for myself. The rest belong to the mercenaries I hire," she said.

Inside, Eris was smirking.

"Little do these revolutionary shitheads know, I have a half dozen horses. And there's no damn way I'm letting any untrained commoners touch any of them. Aside from my stablehand and cavalry mercenaries, I would not trust a one of them with my expensive animals."

Then, the common woman spoke again.

"Couldn't you just order the mercenaries to let us use their horses?"

Eris struggled not to facepalm from exasperation. Rage flashed through her like a flood in the desert. She took a deep breath to calm down before speaking.

"No. I will not," Eris said.

"Why not?" the common woman asked.

The noble forced down a contemptuous expression as she looked back.

"First, these are my personal guards. If we are attacked by bandits or anything else, they will defend us. They need to be as rested up as possible for that. Horseback riding is tiring, but walking is worse. How would you like to die and have to explain to your ancestors that you died because you insisted that your cavalry guards walk?"

"I...well...that's a good point," the commoner admitted.

Eris hid a dark expression.

"You idiots had better not get these men killed. They have families they need to provide for. Just thinking about how their wives and children would mourn their deaths makes me...wait, why do I care? These might be mercenaries, but they're still commoners. Commoners loyal to me, but...argh!" she thought before speaking. "Second, the horses they're riding on are not mine. They bought them with their own money. If I, as a noble, were to order them to give up their horses, wouldn't that be an abuse of power? The very same thing that you hate so much?"

The common woman looked down. Then, the shorter man spoke.

"I mean, it might be an abuse of power. But if it helps our cause, so what if it is? The ends justify the means and all that," he said.

Eris struggled to hide the massive frown that was forming on her face. So, she looked away instead.

"These revolutionaries are a bunch of hypocrites," Eris called the kettle black. "Many nobles think the same thing. They do whatever they can to win because they think the end result will justify it."

"No, they don't!" the common woman dared object before quieting her voice a bit. "I apologize for my abruptness, My Lady, but no noble has an ends justify the means attitude. If they don't support our cause and can't be convinced to, they're just a bunch of corrupt power mongers who only care about themselves."

Eris grimaced and clenched her reins harder. Anger crashed into her like a tidal wave. However, she kept her voice level.

"And do you think any of them feel remorse for having that attitude? That perhaps they dislike having to do terrible things to achieve their goals?"

"None do that. Any nobles that doesn't support our cause's got no empathy," the commoner said.

A resolution came into Eris' mind. It was cold, dark, and very dangerous.

"So, that's what you think of Armand? You subhuman bitch. All you filthy rebels are fated to die, but I will make sure you suffer the most out of all of them, save the Revolutionary Council itself. You will regret your words."

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