Valentina watched uncertainly as Faustus tried to regain his composure. His hands were still shaking slightly as he wiped the tears from his face.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I don't know what... that was just... very intense."

"Oh, that's delicious," Vyxara purred. "He's apologizing to you because he got emotional, not because he just took you brutally."

Valentina ignored the demon and handed Faustus a cloth from the small table next to the bed. "Was it the first time you... lived out such a fantasy?"

He nodded slowly. "I've wanted this for so long. She... she's driving me crazy. Her name's Valentina, you know." He pressed his lips together. "She's just so... so damn perfect. In everything she does."

"Tell me about her," Valentina said softly as she straightened her torn dress. She could hardly believe she was doing this – asking her nemesis for his opinion of her.

Faustus stared at the ceiling. "She's a farmer's daughter. A nobody. But she... she works harder than anyone else. Is smarter than everyone else. The sheer will she has." His voice turned bitter. "Not like me. I have all the advantages in the world and I still fail... just… just like you said."

"Fail?" Valentina raised an eyebrow. "You are a nobleman, and a wealthy one at that, to come here. Surely you are a successful student, I think..."

"Bah." He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "I'll just about make it. My father... he expects excellence. Nothing else. He's worked his way up, you know. From an insignificant baron to one of the most influential men in the north. Through hard work." He laughed mirthlessly. "And me? I'm lazy. Spoiled. A disappointment."

"Fascinating ," Vyxara murmured. "The boy has more self-awareness than I thought. But maybe his father just tells him often enough what a failure he is, that it sticks. That's possible too."

"But you have so many options," Valentina said cautiously. "You could..."

"Oh yes." Faustus' voice dripped with sarcasm. "So many options. I even have a betrothed already. A countess. She's eleven."

Valentina froze. "Eleven?"

"The last of her line. If I marry her, I'll be an earl. My sons will be earls." He swallowed hard. "Provided I don't screw it up. Provided I manage to become the man my father wants me to be. Blah, blah, blah."

He sat up and ran his trembling hands through his hair. "And then this... this whore comes along. No money, no connections. And she's just... brilliant. She wins the Greystone Competition, even though I..." He broke off.

"Although you what?" Valentina asked gently.

"Even though I cheated," he whispered. "And she still won. Because she's better. I think she cheated too. I'm sure of it. But I don't even know how. It should have worked. Even at cheating, she's better than me. She dominated on all levels." He laughed bitterly. "Just like my father would have done."

"Oh, this just gets better and better," Vyxara giggled. "He's projecting his daddy issues onto you."

"How did you get a lock of her hair then?" Valentina asked cautiously. "If she hates you that much..."

Faustus shrugged his shoulders, a smug smile flitting across his face. "I broke into her room. She has a brush on her table. Wasn't hard."

Valentina suppressed a shiver.

"We'll have to secure your room better ," Vyxara muttered grimly. "A few warding patterns on the door should keep out any uninvited visitors. We should have done that long ago."

"And now she is the duke's protégée," Faustus continued bitterly, his voice full of resentment. "The Duke of Duskenshire himself kept her in Dusktown all summer. Fucked her, I suppose. Night after night." He clenched his fists.

"I hate her so much," Faustus continued. "But I... I can't stop thinking about her, about how perfect she is. I... I don't even know how I feel about her anymore." He looked at Valentina – in her Lily guise – almost pleadingly. "Isn't that sick?"

"Oh no," Valentina lied quickly. "That's just human."

She could hardly believe what she was hearing. All this time she had thought Faustus was a one-dimensional, arrogant and needlessly cruel bully. And now it turned out that he was a complicated, arrogant and pathetic bully.

"He wants to conquer a woman who won't let herself be conquered ," Vyxara whispered thoughtfully. "Because he feels so weak himself."

Faustus rose slowly and got dressed. His movements were unsteady, as if he first had to find himself again.

"You... you're not going to tell anyone about this, are you?" he asked, suddenly concerned.

"Of course not," Valentina assured him. "What happens here stays here. The Violet Delights values discretion above all."

He nodded gratefully. "I... I'd like to come back. To you. If that's possible."

"Of course, just ask for Lily," she said mechanically as her stomach churned.

At the door, he turned around once more. "Thank you," he said quietly. "For listening to me. That... I... I mean... thank you."

Then he was gone.

"Well," Vyxara said, stretching, "that was... enlightening."

As the door slammed shut behind Faustus, Valentina rushed to the washbasin. Her hands trembled as she dipped one of the cloths into the water and hurriedly began to clean herself.

Suddenly, the reality of what had just happened overwhelmed her. A wave of pure hatred and disgust flooded through her with such intensity that everything went black shortly. She clutched at the dresser while her body was convulsed with an urge to gag. Faustus. Of all people, Faustus. The man she hated more than anyone else in the world. Who had tormented and humiliated her since her arrival in Bridgewater. Who would have loved to break her. And she had let him inside her, had felt his disgusting seed inside her...

She clenched her hands into fists, barely able to keep herself from hitting the wall over and over again. The anger and self-hatred threatened to suffocate her.

"So... if you asked me," Vyxara remarked, barely able to keep her amusement to herself.

"Shut up," Valentina hissed, tears of anger in her eyes as she tried to scrub Faustus' marks from her skin – from inside herself. "This isn't funny."

"Oh, yes, it is," the demon contradicted gently. "In fact, it's probably the funniest thing I've ever seen in thousands of years. Just think about it – he came here to dominate an illusion of you, and instead..."

"Instead, he fucked the real Valentina," Valentina finished the sentence bitterly. "Yes, very funny."

"The irony is truly remarkable ," purred Vyxara. "But what's even more remarkable is that you were in complete control of the situation. He thought he had the power, but in truth he knew nothing. You were the one who knew what was going on. Not him."

Valentina paused, the damp cloth still in her hand. "What do you even mean by that?"

"Well ," Vyxara said, stretching , "he came here to live out his fantasies of dominance. Instead, he completely lost control and then you made him open up and show his weaknesses. You learned more about him than he will ever know about you."

A reluctant laugh rose in Valentina's throat. The situation was so absurd, so grotesque – perhaps she actually had to laugh at it to avoid losing her mind.

"See?" Vyxara's voice softened. "It won't define you. No one will ever know. Not even he knows what really happened. The only person who will decide if this experience changes you – is you."

Valentina sat down on the edge of the bed. "His betrothed is eleven," she said quietly. "A countess. The last of her line. His father arranged that cleverly."

"Ah yes," murmured Vyxara. "She's still very young. It will be a few years before the marriage can be consummated. Who knows what will happen between now and then. He's desperate to prove himself but can't muster the discipline to actually do it."

"He doesn't feel adequate before the eyes of his father," Valentina continued as she put the pieces of the puzzle together. "And then I come along – a farmer's daughter who dares to be better than him..."

"And embodies everything he should be but isn't," Vyxara confirmed. "Hard-working, disciplined, successful on her own merits. Just like his father. No wonder he's so obsessed with you."

"That explains a lot," Valentina said thoughtfully. "But it doesn't make it any less disgusting."

"No," agreed Vyxara. "But it makes him predictable. And vulnerable."

Valentina stood up and unsuccessfully tried to put her torn dress a little bit more in order. She would have to change. The heavy scent of violets and musk still hung in the air, mingling with the smell of sex and sweat.

"By the way...", Vyxara said carefully, "if you want to talk about your physical reaction..."

"No," Valentina interrupted her calmly. "That's not necessary. Physically, it was exactly what I like. My body doesn't know the difference – that's all."

"Very mature of you," Vyxara praised appreciatively. "You've really developed some confidence when it comes to things like this."

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They were silent for a moment while Valentina arranged her hair.

"I want to tell Innogen," she finally said.

"Of course," Vyxara agreed. "She's your best friend. And sometimes you need a less... philosophical perspective on such things." The demon chuckled softly. "I'm sure her reaction will be considerably less amused than mine."

Valentina smiled faintly. "Probably."

She took one last look in the mirror, checking that her Lily illusion was still perfectly in place. Then she left the Red Room, her shoulders tightened and her head held high.

She had survived this grotesque farce and found out things that she might be able to use against Faustus. The emotions would subside.

"That's my little Weaver ," Vyxara purred contentedly. "Always looking for an advantage. Even in the most absurd situations."

"Especially in the most absurd situations," Valentina corrected dryly as she walked down the corridor to the salon.

The demon's laughter accompanied her like a warm embrace.

~

The next day, Valentina met Innogen again in the snow-covered gardens of the university behind the bare rose bushes.

"You seem upset," Innogen said worriedly, snuggling into her fur. "What's wrong?"

Valentina took a deep breath. "Last night... at Violet Delights... I had a customer." She broke off, unsure how to continue.

"Someone hurt you?" Innogen's golden eyebrows drew together in concern.

"No. Yes. It's more complicated." Valentina rubbed her temples. "It was Faustus."

"Faustus?" Innogen blinked in confusion. "Faustus Boarfend?"

"It was so confusing at first," Valentina continued as she brushed a stray snowflake off her sleeve. "When I put the strand of hair into the Artifact and suddenly saw my own face in the mirror... I thought it was faulty at first. And then when Faustus stood in the doorway..." She shuddered at the memory. "For a terrible moment, I thought he recognized me. That he knew who I was."

"Oh Martyr," Innogen whispered. "That must have been terrible."

"It was only when he started talking that I realized what was really going on." Valentina laughed mirthlessly. "He had stolen a strand of my hair so that a courtesan could look like me. He asked Madame Dolorosa specifically for a girl who wouldn't mind if it gets a little rough." She shook her head, sighing at the absurdity. "He had no idea it was really me."

"That vile..." Innogen clenched her fists, her cheeks red with anger. "And what happened?"

"What do you think happened Innogen?"

Innogen stared at her, speechless. "You mean... he... and you..."

"Yes."

"By all the flames of the Martyr!" Innogen jumped up and began to walk up and down between the rose bushes. "That... that... I don't even know a word strong enough! That pig! That arrogant, disgusting..." She paused. "Why did you let him do that?"

"What could I do?" Valentina shrugged her shoulders wearily. "If I had refused, I would have lost my position at Violet Delights. And I need the money, you know that."

"Oh Val." Innogen sat down next to her again and took her hand. "This is so awful."

"That's not all," Valentina interrupted her quietly. "After... after that... He broke down. He cried. Told me things..." She told her about Faustus' confessions, about his domineering father, the arranged marriage with the eleven-year-old countess, his feelings of inferiority.

"That explains a lot," Innogen murmured thoughtfully. "But it doesn't make him any more likeable. He's still a privileged bastard who humiliates women to make himself feel better."

A soft laugh escaped Valentina. Innogen's direct honesty was like a lifeline after Vyxara's philosophical reflections.

"What will you do when he comes back?" asked Innogen after a while.

"Carry on," Valentina said firmly. "I can't afford to lose this source of income. And..." She hesitated. "Maybe I'll find out more about him. Things that I could use."

"You really want to keep doing this?" Innogen leaned forward, her eyes full of concern. "Val, I admire your strength, I really do. You're incredible. But... how can you stand it? I can't even imagine how you can bear it – just... being available. For him. Allowing him to do that."

Valentina was silent for a moment. "I have to go through it, it's better than the alternative," she finally said quietly. "I can do this."

"Oh Val." Innogen hugged her tightly. "You know you can come to me anytime, right? No matter when. Even in the middle of the night. The Illuminator be damned – if you need someone to vent to, or just a hug.... I'm there for you."

"I know." Valentina squeezed her hand. "Thank you, Innogen."

They sat together in silence for a while longer, hand in hand, while the cold slowly crept through their clothes.

"We should go in," Innogen finally sighed. "Before the Emberwardens get suspicious."

Valentina nodded. As they stood up, Innogen held her back once more. "Val? Promise me you'll be careful. With Faustus... You never know what he's capable of."

"I know." Valentina smiled weakly. "But at least now I know his weaknesses."

"And that makes you even stronger than him," Vyxara purred in her head as they walked back to the main building.

The realization that she now actually had power over Faustus – albeit a bizarre, twisted form of power – almost made Valentina dizzy. She would have to use this power sensibly.

~

It was quiet in the library. Valentina was sitting hunched over a tome on advanced Essence Theory when she heard heavy footsteps running past her. When she looked up, she saw Faustus. She froze. For the first time since their... encounter at Violet Delights.

He didn't notice her at first, too engrossed in an old tome with yellowed pages. Valentina could just make out the title: "Corrupted Artifacts and their Detection". Her eyebrows rose – he was obviously worried about the Eye of Deceit.

"Oh, look," Vyxara purred in amusement , "our little trickster is afraid of the big bad Illuminator."

As if he had heard her thoughts, Faustus flinched at the distant sound of Emberwarden's boots. His hands trembled slightly as he hastily closed the book.

Then he saw her.

"Ah." His usual arrogant grin appeared on his face, but Valentina noticed the tension behind it. "If it isn't our little peasant princess."

Valentina forced herself to calm down, even though her heart was racing. The memory of his sweaty hands on her skin, his weight on her...

"Faustus," she said coolly. "Still looking for ways to cheat?"

His eyes narrowed, but before he could answer, footsteps sounded again. An Emberwarden patrolled the corridors, his burgundy robes billowing behind him.

Faustus' face lost all color. Almost reflexively, he pushed the book on corrupted artifacts behind his back.

"How cute ," commented Vyxara. "He's just as afraid of discovery as you are."

The Emberwarden walked past without paying any attention to them. Faustus relaxed slightly, but his fingers still clenched around the hidden book.

"What's wrong, Faustus?" Valentina couldn't resist. "You look like you have something to hide."

"Shut up," he hissed, then caught himself. A cold smile appeared on his face. "Although... maybe we should discuss this privately? Somewhere... more cozy?"

The implication in his voice was unmistakable. Valentina felt like vomiting. He thought of "Lily", of their night together.

"I'll pass," she said dryly.

"Really?" He stepped closer, his breath brushing her ear. "I could show you things you've never even dreamed of..."

"Oh, the irony ," Vyxara chortled. "If only he knew..."

"Be careful, Faustus," Valentina warned quietly. "Otherwise I might get the idea of telling the Illuminator that you tried to ravish me, a pious virgin devoted to the Martyr."

He froze. "What?"

"What a scandal that would be!" She smiled sweetly. "What do you think your father would say?"

The threat was vague enough that he couldn't associate it with "Lily", but precise enough to hit home. His face turned ashen.

At that moment, footsteps sounded again – several this time. Faustus' head jerked around like that of a hunted animal.

"This isn't over yet," he hissed, but his voice trembled slightly. Then he hurried away, clutching the book on corrupted artifacts tightly to his chest.

Valentina looked after him, a grim smile on her lips. He had no idea how right he was – it was far from over.

"You're getting better and better at using your power," Vyxara praised appreciatively. "Subtle, but effective."

~

As Valentina hurried through the snow-covered streets to Violet Delights the next Monday, the snow swirled around her as if to cover her tracks.

Madame Dolorosa was already waiting for her in the salon, elegant as ever in her dark purple silk dress. The familiar scent of violets and musk hung in the air.

"Ah, Lily, my dear." A knowing smile played around her lips. "Your young nobleman from Thursday was here again on Friday."

Valentina froze. "What?"

"Oh yes." Madame Dolorosa took a sip of wine from her crystal glass. "He sounded almost desperate when I told him you weren't working again until Monday. He even offered to pay double if I sent for you."

"How sweet ," Vyxara purred amusedly. "The piggy is hooked."

"He's been waiting for an hour already," continued Madame Dolorosa. "In the Red Room." She eyed Valentina attentively. "If that makes you uncomfortable..."

"No," Valentina quickly interrupted her. "It's all right." She couldn't let on, she didn't want Madame Dolorosa or any of the other girls to get the idea that something was wrong.

Rose, who was lounging on a sofa nearby, gave her a worried look. "Are you sure, sweetheart? He sounded pretty... obsessive."

"I'll be fine." Valentina forced herself to smile. "He's not the first to fall in love with the role we're playing for him."

Vyxara giggled in her thoughts.

Madame Dolorosa handed her another strand of Valentina's own hair. "Here. He insisted that you look exactly the same as last time."

Valentina took the strand. Her fingers trembled slightly as she opened the illusion artifact and inserted the strand. No one was allowed to see the transformation. She would only transform once in the Red Room.

"Don't make him wait too long," Madame Dolorosa reminded her gently.

Valentina nodded and straightened her shoulders. She now knew what she was up against. Knew Faustus' weaknesses, his insecurities. She would use this knowledge.

She could already smell his perfume as she approached the door. Faustus was waiting behind it, probably already excited by the idea of "conquering" her again.

Valentina put her hand on the door handle and took a deep breath.

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