of vice and virtue.
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Paulecrain proffers his arm, and she eyes it warily, casting one last glance across the room, but it is merely a sea of unfamiliar faces. She looks back at the two expectant knights, before she finishes off her drink, setting the empty glass down on a nearby table.
“Alright,” she relents, taking his arm. “I’m yours.”
The Warrior of Light attends a party at the Dzemaels.
Series
- Part 1 of of vice and virtue.
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She thinks, in the end, maybe nothing could have stopped her from leaning in, whispering a suggestion into Paulecrain’s ear, letting Grinnaux pull her onto his lap as they both gave her wicked smiles in response. They had left the Forgotten Knight with mugs half empty on the table, and, she supposes, she can’t help but blame herself for that.
The Warrior of Light continues to have questionable taste in men.
Series
- Part 2 of of vice and virtue.
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He wants her to beg, but she won’t be suffered to do so. Not formally, anyway.
The Warrior of Light likes to tell herself that this is the last time, but it never really is, is it?
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- Part 3 of of vice and virtue.
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Couldn’t he just shut up and fuck her? Couldn’t she just shut up and take it?
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- Part 4 of of vice and virtue.
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“If you come before I say you can,” he murmurs, pressing a chaste kiss to the inside of her trembling thigh, “I will make you wish you hadn’t.”
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- Part 5 of of vice and virtue.
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“Well. It’s – humiliating,” she finally confesses, her voice oddly pitched.
“And here I thought you were fond of that sort of thing,” comes the unbearably smug reply, and gods, if she was of sounder mind, she’d kill them both for the way they’re looking at her right now –
Series
- Part 6 of of vice and virtue.
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“It’s just a sword,” Granson tells her once, not unkindly.
Right, she thinks. Sure.
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- Part 7 of of vice and virtue.
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They shouldn’t be where they’re standing, is all. It should be a straight shot to the airship — has always been a straight shot, in every dream, every nightmare she’s ever had of this place. She’s played through this moment in her mind more times than she can count, willingly or otherwise, to have it wrong now. Grinnaux with his hands on the wheel of the airship, Adelphel already on board, Charibert ushering their Archbishop along.
None of them should be as they are now — already all metal, their weapons drawn, staring her down from across the landing.
The Warrior of Light doesn't dream. Instead, she fights — again, and again, until she gets it right.
Series
- Part 8 of of vice and virtue.
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“A baby?”
Arcelia chokes on the word. Grinnaux patiently watches her sputter, sees the warmth in her cheeks, the way her eyes go wide as she stares back at him.
“Of course,” he says, smiles, takes a step closer, “for my little wife.”
Series
- Part 9 of of vice and virtue.