Tori Transmigrated
Chapter 186: You're Not Supposed to Be Here

She wasn’t surprised that everyone understood her decision. Ewan even offered to come, giving up all the snacks he had allotted to go and support his master.

“When I called them last night, Axton said for you to return on the ship as planned,” Tori told him as she stood beside him on the steps of the Fortress. “Axton says that he’s not sure how he'll take it when the time comes and doesn’t want you to see him in such a state.”

Ewan furrowed his brows and his face saddened. “I will respect Master regardless of his state.”

“I know, but this is also for the Duke’s sake,” Henrik said as he patted Ewan’s shoulder and gave him a comforting squeeze. “He doesn’t want his pupil to see him so upset.”

Sebastian nodded. “You must respect his wishes as a pupil, Ewan. I would request the same.”

Disappointed, Ewan nodded his head. “I understand.”

“Uncle Duke Axton is going to be sad?” Fiona asked as she hopped down the stairs holding Ava’s hand. She had her stuffed chicken under one arm and waddled towards Tori. “Auntie, you can let him borrow Ewan the chicken if he’s sad.”

Stuffed animals did have a way of comforting children, so Fiona’s thoughts weren’t wrong. Tori was moved by her niece’s thoughtful words and knelt down to stroke Fiona’s hair back.

“I will tell him what you said, but Axton wouldn’t want to take Ewan the chicken from you. Besides, Ewan the chicken always accompanies you on your travels. He should be with you,” Tori said in a reasonable voice.

Fiona looked at the plush chicken she was holding out and then brought it back towards her small body. “Give Uncle a hug for me.”

“I will.”

Nanny Rey helped usher the small children into one of the carriages bound for Tres Arcos. The teens, including Gideon and Fabian, who would return by ship since Piers took his imperial carriage, had another carriage. There were several carriages going with them, but only two going to the Alvere Duchy.

“Tori, Mama is usually very collected, but when she gets caught up with emotions, she can be a wreck,” Sebastian told her.

Tori nodded. Her mother had been uncharacteristically clingy and distraught the night before. While it was surprising to Tori, she’d had plenty of experience calming down others, both in this world and her original one.

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Tori said. “The Empress is going to be there, as well.”

“That may just be two crying women you’ll have to deal with,” Sebastian said. He bit his lips and furrowed his brows. He leaned a bit closer and whispered. “Don’t tell them, as he’s not supposed to leave his station at the moment, but I told Master, and he may come.”

Tori stood up straight and looked at her brother with wide eyes. Sebastian’s master was the Marquis General. “Is it for certain?”

Sebastian shook his head. “No, but knowing him, he may come...both for the Duchess and for Axton.”

Tori took a deep breath. “All right. I’ll do what I can.”

Sebastian patted her head gently. “Do not overwhelm yourself, either.”

They watched the caravan headed to Tres Arcos file in a line and then begin the procession out of the Fortress surrounded by knights. As they emptied the courtyard, the two carriages and knights heading to Alvere arrived.

Tori hugged her family. Her father held her mother for a long time, whispering comforting words in her ears before allowing her to push him away so they could leave. Tori waited in the carriage for her mother to climb in and once she was inside, Tori assured her father she’d take care of her mother.

Her father chuckled and patted her head through the open window. “It is too early for you to have to take care of us, but thank you.”

The carriages set off and Tori sat across from her mother. Antonia was in a bit of a daze, looking out the window as Tori set up the table inside and continued working on the escape room plans.

Little was said during the trip. At times, Antonia would speak of her days in Lycée with the late Duchess and the Empress. Sometimes, she would rant about Cillian and Rebecca or expressed worry for Axton and even uncertainty for Montan. Other times, Antonia was silent and staring out the window, but not seeing the scenery.

Tori listened intently when her mother spoke, commenting here and there to make sure her mother knew she was listening. Before they left the last inn before Nassaun House, they changed into mourning clothes they’d prepared. According to Tori’s last call to Piers, they would entomb the Duchess the next morning.

Today would be the longest day of the funeral process and while only blood-related family were required to be present, Tori and her mother planned to stay the entire time, as well.

Nassaun House was an hour off the main route that went through the Alvere Duchy. It wasn’t far from the border of the duchy and the central corridor, and was located in a flat expanse of land dotted with clumps of trees. It was mostly agricultural land; there were two small villages they passed on the way to the estate, but most of it was rolling fields.

“The Nassauns were a land-owning family not originally from the Alvere Duchy. They came from seafaring coastal people in Sur,” her mother said as they looked out the window.

“They’re coastal? Why did they become landlocked?”

“During the Period of Conquest, influential families who sided with Soleil were awarded, but in order to secure control over those powerful and influential families, they were given property where they could be better monitored,” Antonia answered. “There are many local nobles like this spread out across the Central Corridor. Members of the Nassaun family still used their ancestral given names from when they lived on the coast.”

Tori peered out the window. Nassaun House was quite graceful sitting in the fields; like a picturesque French chateau, though the closer they got, the more she noticed the state of the house. Some windows were cracked and boarded up and the roof was missing shingles or bent inward. In one place, there was just a hole with exposed beams.

There was a small construction area nearby that was likely for the workers who were repairing the chateau. Axton refused to live in Sun Garden and Nassaun House was closer to Horizon, so it was understandable that he was fixing it up as the Alvere official residence. She knew he planned to live in Horizon, but every noble family had an official ancestral estate of sorts.

Besides, if Axton threw a ball or had a large event, she doubted his apartment at the Lunar Pavilion would suffice. But if he did want to throw an event there, she’d let him.

Their carriage was let past the new iron gate that was connected to a dilapidated stone wall. Tori supposed Axton would get to the wall later. The path was made of stone bricks and the countless centuries of traffic had caused grooves to be made along the stone. The size of modern carriages was a bit wider, so while the left wheels fit into the groove, the right ones were still elevated, making the carriage tilt a bit.

The path was likely made of bricks because it led over a stone bridge surrounding a drained moat around the chateau. From the look of the muddy pit and various garbage that were settled at the bottom, it was likely drained recently. Tori could see the waterline stain against the sides of the chateau’s worn, gray stone base.

Vines had climbed up the walls and even though it was old, dilapidated, and the roof of the one the keeps had a massive hole, it was beautiful. It screamed abandoned, and possibly haunted, chateau, but one that was still hopelessly alluring to passersby.

“Who was the last person to live here?” Tori asked.

“Axton’s great-grandfather. He had several children, but his three sons died in battle and his daughter married Genevieve’s father. She died after getting caught in a snowstorm. Axton became the only heir, but as he was afraid Cillian would try to take advantage of him, he didn’t want to repair Nassaun House.”

“That’s understandable. What about everything inside?”

“Monica and I had the items placed in various private warehouses in Horizon. Axton had begun moving some things into the livable areas of the chateau, but not everything can be brought back considering the state of it.”

The carriage went beneath a gate house and into a tidied courtyard. There was a space of carriages and horses off to the side. Tori recognized the imperial carriages already parked there. Knights were waiting for them and as soon as they stepped up, they were respectfully greeted.

“My ladies, His Highness and His Grace are in the chapel,” Sir Dobchek told them. “I will bring you there.”

Tori gave him a nod and took her mother’s arm to offer her support before following the knight inside.

They went up a few steps and into a foyer. There was a dusty, earthy scent, but all around them, there were workers who were cleaning the area. The foyer itself was clean and well lit, though lacked any decorations outside of the tile and woodwork. They walked through narrow halls to a deeper part of the chateau.

There was a courtyard garden with a stone chapel in the back, down another stone path. The garden was a bit overgrown in some places, but there was a gardener tending to it.

An old man was standing diligently before the single open doorway to the chapel. He saw them approaching and bowed his head. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Nʘvᴇl(F)ire.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

“Marquess Guevera, Countess Guevera, thank you for coming.”

“Mr. Merced, it has been many years,” Antonia said with a tight voice. Her eyes reddened as she reached out and took the old man’s hands. “Thank you for your devotion to Genevieve and Axton.”

“It is my duty, my lady.” Mr. Merced’s eyes were red as well. He patted Antonia’s hand and stepped aside to let them in. Before they stepped in, Antonia lifted the mantilla draped over her shoulders, over her head. Tori took out hers from her pocket and shook it out before doing the same.

“Mama....” Tori whispered as she took her mother’s arm once more. Antonia’s grip on her arm tightened.

They stepped through the threshold. Before doing so, Tori could already smell incense. The inside of the small chapel was dark and dreary. It was built for private use, as there was a small sanctuary at the front and only four wooden rows of pews. The pews looked like they needed some repair.

Before the altar was a stone sarcophagus carved with flowers. It was sealed and Tori felt that was for the best. It had been years since the Duchess passed on, after all. On top of the sarcophagus were different colored roses. There were garlands around it and decorating the altar. The area of the chapel looked untouched by time and neglect.

With each step, Tori listened to her mother’s breathing to make sure she was steady. They went directly to the sarcophagus on a fine wooden bed with wheels. Antonia’s breath hitched as they stopped before it. She placed her hand on the cold, beige stone.

“Welcome back, you foolish girl.” Her shoulders began to shake, and Tori wrapped her arm around her mother’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I didn’t keep him away.”

She knelt down and draped her body over the side of the sarcophagus as she cried. Tori knelt down beside her, trying to keep her steady as she grieved. Tori sniffled. She didn’t want to cry at the moment. She feared it would make her mother’s crying worse.

After some time, she noticed two figures standing to the side. She lifted her head and bit her lip as she gave Axton and Piers, both in mourning black, a bow of her head to silently acknowledge them.

Her mother looked up and began to stand. Axton stepped forward to help her up immediately and as soon as he grasped her arm, Antonia pulled him into a tight embrace.

“Axton, you have honored your mother well.”

The man trembled for a moment before shutting his eyes and nodded. “Thank you, Auntie.”

“How has he been?” Tori asked as she looked towards Piers. Piers was frowning a bit and shook his head. She knit her brows. “And you?”

Piers only glanced at Axton and then looked down.

“Has your mother arrived yet?” Antonia asked as she released Axton. She wiped her eyes as she turned to Piers.

“She will be arriving soon, my lady,” he replied in a quiet voice. “She left the palace before dawn.”

Antonia swallowed hard and nodded.

“Auntie, have a seat,” Axton said, helping her to a wooden bench that had been brought in as the pews were unsuitable for sitting. Antonia shook her head.

“I will kneel. Prayers must be given,” Antonia said. She looked at her daughter and gave her a gentle smile. “Tori, you sit.”

Tori nodded and walked a few paces to get to the bench pushed up by the first row of pews. Axton took a seat beside her and opened his mouth to talk to her, only for Tori to wrap her arms around his shoulders and pull him against her. Axton tensed at first and she stroked his back to soothe him.

His arms wrapped around her. “Tori....”

“You worked hard, Axton.” His arms around her tightened and she felt wetness against her neck. She held him tightly and rocked him as Piers sat on Axton’s other side and placed a hand on his shoulder.

They remained on either side of Axton, holding on to him without a word until the Empress arrived. She swept in, already in mourning clothes. She stopped to check on Axton, who looked up from Tori’s wet shoulder, then went to kneel beside Antonia.

If this wasn’t held in a private chapel, the Empress would not kneel, as it wasn’t fitting for her position, but no one was around to talk. Mr. Merced and several knights kept a close guard on the door. The Empress and Antonia leaned against each other, talking quietly. Tori motioned to Piers.

“Ask Mr. Merced to bring two chairs for them to sit in,” Tori said. Piers nodded and he rose to ask for chairs as Axton remained seated, staring at his mother’s sarcophagus with his head on Tori’s shoulder.

“I saw her when they took her out of the cave,” Axton said in a hoarse voice. “She was wrapped in layers of silk and linen...she was so small.” His eyes crinkled up. “I don’t remember her being that small.”

Tori tilted her head and rested it on top of Axton’s as she kept an arm around him and held his forearm with her other hand. “You were young when she passed. At the time, she appeared larger to you.”

“I knew I would have to move her eventually, but I didn’t think it was going to be like this,” Axton said. He turned his head inward and closed his eyes. “I don’t know what I’d do if my godmother and your mother didn’t help.”

Tori began to rock him again as Mr. Merced carried in two chairs with cushions and set them up where Piers instructed. Piers urged the two to take seats close to the sarcophagus. Once they were settled, he returned to the bench.

“Tomorrow, the Archbishop of Alvere will do the final prayers, then she will be entombed in the crypt here,” Piers told her in a quiet voice. “Tonight, will be the last watch.”

Tori nodded. She’d only been to one funeral before since she arrived in this world. It was the burial of an elder villager and the first to be buried in the delta’s cemetery. The process was supposed to be the same, but there were slight regional differences. The last watch was a customary night before burial of prayer for the dead and meant to accompany the grieving family.

It would last the full day before and go through the night. The family stayed up most of the time, but guests came in and out to accompany them. Particular foods were eaten at this time and there was no alcohol or caffeine. The food was very simple.

Axton didn’t expect any guests other than them. He wasn’t sure if Montan was coming; he didn’t want to force him, but he did tell him that if he wanted to come, the carriage would take him. Tori also didn’t tell him that the Marquis General could possibly come.

As the sun set, a table was set up in the garden with chairs to serve food. Food was not permitted inside the chapel during mourning in some parts of the empire, including Alvere, though Constantine told her that it varied in different parts of the empire.

At least one person needed to remain in the chapel at all times, until the morning. Antonia and the Empress made them eat first, as they were concerned about Axton. It wasn’t until Tori was outside, where there were some bright light crystals illuminating the dining table, did she notice how thin and sunken Axton’s face was.

“I’m not very hungry,” he said. “You and Piers eat.”

“Axton.” Piers frowned and Tori froze.

“When was the last time you’ve had a proper meal?” Tori asked him as she moved between him and the path to the chapel, suddenly worried that he’d turn around and go back without so much as a mouthful of food.

“I had some bread this morning.”

“He took a bite and drank water,” Piers told her with dissatisfaction. Tori frowned.

“Axton, you don’t have to eat a lot, just sit here with me and Piers. Give Mama and the Empress time with your mother,” Tori said. Since she wasn’t forcing him, Axton followed her and sat on the table next to her.

The meal was simple, some flat bread and roasted meat and mushy boiled vegetables. It was not at all a rich meal for people of their status, but it was what was eaten during the last watch. It was likely taken from the ancient days.

Tori took some bread and carefully smeared some vegetables onto it before adding a slice of meat. She put it on Axton’s plate. “Just a little.”

“Tori....”

“Your body is used to eating larger amounts to provide energy, as you are very active as a knight. The sudden decrease in consumption is throwing your body into chaos and will weaken you. If you do not eat and drink enough, there is a good chance that you will collapse under mental and emotional strain. It could be tonight or tomorrow, but if you don’t eat or drink enough, it will happen,” Tori told him with an unrelenting look. “I’m not asking you to eat a full meal, Axton. Just two or three of these now and throughout the night. I’ll make it for you every two hours or so, just to keep you going.”

He was quiet and lowered his eyes to look at the bread. He reached for it and picked it up, putting it in his mouth. He chewed quietly and Tori ended up feeding him an entire face-sized flat bread with vegetable mush and meat. Piers continued to urge him to drink, and Mr. Merced looked relieved.

After a few of their meals, Tori and Piers escorted him back into the chapel to switch with their mothers. Axton sat down on one of the chairs and Tori and Piers gave him some time to be alone with his thoughts.

“How was he at his father’s burial?” Tori asked in a quiet voice as she and Piers sat behind him on the bench.

“He was very quiet. He didn’t say much, and the local priest oversaw the prayers,” Piers said. There was no last watch then, as Axton had accompanied his father’s body from Sur to the village. The coffins prepared were wooden ones bought in haste, unlike the Duchess’ carved sarcophagus, which had been commissioned before her death and was waiting in a warehouse in Horizon for years. The coffins from the village were better than plain wood, but had little embellishments.

“It was fast?”

Piers nodded. “They were buried beside each other. Axton wanted them cremated, but it would take too much time.” Axton had their bodies wrapped in linen. He checked their faces once more before the coffins were sealed shut, just to confirm the identities of the dead being buried, then remained until all the dirt had been piled on top. “Stone grave markers will be placed within the month. He is buried as Cillian Kelly.”

No mention of his ties to Alvere at all.

Piers went on to explain that Rebecca Walter’s death was ruled as ‘death by assault’, meaning it was likely not premeditated and she died in the middle of an altercation a few days before her body was found from what the knights investigated. Since the killer was Cillian and Cillian drank poison, nothing else needed to be done. Who could they punish if the murderer was dead, too?

Tori wondered if the madman who died happily draped over his late wife’s corpse would be infuriated if he knew that in the end, he was buried next to the woman who helped him ruin his precious happy family. And worse, it was his own son he was so proud of who made it happen.

She shook her head. That had nothing to do with her.

She heard footsteps coming from the back of the chapel and turned around. A young man hesitated. He stood just two steps into the chapel, his hands gripping the worn tunic on his body as his wide gray eyes stared at the sarcophagus.

“Montan.” Axton rose from his seat and strode towards his brother. His gait was steady and though his face was still pale and gaunt, he looked stronger than when they had been outside eating.

Montan’s eyes darted to Axton’s, and he took a step back, ready to retreat. Axton slowed his pace and stopped in front of him. The two looked at each other in silence and Tori held her breath.

Axton stepped forward and embraced Montan. Montan grabbed onto Axton’s arms as his shoulders shook with broken breaths. He was led to the sarcophagus and Montan stood there before falling to his knees and pressing his head against the side of the cold stone.

He was muttering something beneath his choked sobs and Tori could only hear him say the word ‘Mama’ in a tortured voice. He didn’t go to the village to bury his biological parents when he had more than enough time to, but instead he came to Nassaun House for the Duchess.

“Toni.” Tori heard the Empress’ voice and looked back to the door. She saw the Empress walking out and could see her mother’s fleeting back storming away. Tori patted Piers’ shoulder and got up to go check on her mother.

She rushed out of the chapel and went through the garden. Once inside, she heard the Empress speaking to her mother in a desperate voice.

“If it wasn’t for Gen, he wouldn’t be alive,” the Empress said as she held Tori’s shoulders. “You know Gen took care of him when he was a baby. She had him hide in her room to avoid his parents. He may not have survived into childhood without Gen.”

“I did not expect to see him so soon.”

“Toni-”

Her mother scowled and complained. “He has that bitch’s hair.”

“Toni....” The Empress let out a small, bittersweet laugh and embraced Antonia. “He cannot control the circumstances of his birth. We all know that.”

“It's fine. I just need a moment....” Antonia said. Tori peeked around the corner and when it looked like her mother was fine, she headed back to the chapel.

Axton had managed to get Montan on to the other chair and was seated next to him with his arm around his shoulder and was speaking quietly to the young man with puffy red eyes. Piers stood up when Tori reached him and then sat down beside her.

The night wore on and while both the Empress and Antonia urged their children to go and sleep in the chateau, everyone ended up staying in the chapel. Tori asked for blankets and pillows, then checked all the pews to find sturdy ones and had them cleaned so they could rest.

Piers watched as one particular pew was cleaned thoroughly and Tori had sheets draped over it before he laid down. Every so often, Tori reminded those who were awake to get something to eat or drink.

Everyone must’ve been exhausted. Her mother and the Empress fell asleep leaning against each other on a first-row pew. Piers was sleeping just behind them in another pew. Axton fell asleep on the chair with Montan slumped next to him.

Tori shook out blankets to put over them and as she was standing to the side, well past midnight, shaking out a drab green blanket, another figure entered the chapel.

It was the movement and not his footsteps that caught her attention. Tori slowed her motions and stood still, afraid to distract the man as he walked down the aisle. His clothes were dusty and wrinkled, he looked a bit unkempt and had circles around his eyes.

The Marquis General fell to his knees beside the sarcophagus. He removed his gloves from his hands, dropping them beside him, and touched the cold stone. Without a word, he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the stone. He leaned forward and placed his lips against it before letting out heavy breath.

Tori tiptoed closer, to put the blanket over Axton and Montan.

The Marquis General snapped his head towards her, and she froze. His alert look softened as he realized it was her and gave her a gentle look. He mouthed ‘my lady’ as he smiled. Tori bowed her head and put the blanket around the two.

She then returned to the bench to keep watch, and after some time, the Marquis General joined her.

“Thank you,” he said in a quiet voice that seemed unfitting for someone who was seen as a great hero in the empire. When he spoke like this, he almost sounded like Piers.

“I couldn’t leave Axton alone,” Tori said. “And I was worried about Piers. Mama wanted to come, too.”

“Hmm...they were inseparable,” he said as he looked towards his sleeping sister and Antonia. “It’s a shame that Genevieve didn’t have the chance to meet you. You’re the only daughter amongst the trio, so she wanted to meet you at least once.”

“I’ve heard so much about her, I wanted to meet her, too,” Tori said. “She was very well loved.”

“She was an angel.” The Marquis General let out a soft laugh as his face glazed over with nostalgia. He then looked towards Montan and cocked his head to the side. “That’s Cillian’s boy?”

Tori nodded. “Montan.”

The Marquis General seemed to look him over. “I can see that he’s related to Axton. A bit malnourished, though. Madam Walter wasn’t very tall, but the boy should have been a bit taller at his age. He’s as old as Gideon, isn’t he?”

“Yes, but they didn’t...they weren’t good parents to him,” Tori said awkwardly. She glanced at the Marquis General. He was surprisingly respectful when referring to Montan’s parents. Her mother and the Empress spoke of them with such vitriol even when mentioning their names.

“He has time to grow a bit more. Though, I doubt he’ll be as good looking as my Axton.” He looked at Axton fondly and Tori smiled. She didn’t know the Marquis General well at all, but wasn’t surprised that instead of being miserable, he was smiling and recalling good things. She liked this better than the sadness, even if there were those who found it inappropriate.

“Axton is very good-looking,” she confirmed. He looked at her and grinned a bit.

“Better looking than my Piers?”

Tori held back a laugh and tried to keep her voice down. “I don’t think an outlier like Piers can be compared to.”

“Ah....” He looked back at the sarcophagus with a loving smile. “It looks like we von Schwert win again, my love.”

“You haven’t won anything,” an unimpressed voice spoke up behind them and Tori saw her mother giving the Marquis General a dull look. “They are just friends. And also, Oliver, isn’t Piers a Soleil?”

“Fifty percent von Schwert and we’re better looking, Antonia. You have to accept that,” the Marquis General said. He leaned towards them and took her hand, giving her a gentle squeeze. “It’s good to see you. I apologize for not coming to Sebastian’s wedding.”

“Idiot.” The Empress was rubbing her eyes as she woke up. “You’re not supposed to be here, either.”

“How can I miss seeing her off for the final time?” he asked with a helpless melancholy smile.

Tori pursed her lips. Okay, it is very easy to see why this man is sought after...why the hell did the Duchess pick that crazy old man instead of him?

Their chattering woke up Axton, who quickly came to greet the Marquis General. The two men walked out to talk and when they returned, both their eyes were red. Tori yawned and Antonia made her go to sleep beside her. If Piers was awoken, he didn’t show it and remained laying across the pew.

When Tori woke up, the Archbishop of Alvere had arrived and was talking to Axton. Piers took her to wash her face. Her stomach grumbled, but they couldn’t eat until it was over. Instead, she drank some water.

While more elaborate, the prayers and funeral were the same as in the delta. Tori stood next to her mother, clutching her arm as knights came to bring the sarcophagus out. The priest led the way as the wheeled flatbed carrying the heavy stone followed behind him. The procession was small: Axton, Piers and the Empress, Tori and her mother, and the Marquis General and Montan, followed by Mr. Merced.

The Nassaun crypt was past the moat and under a large, stone mausoleum, but the Duchess would be put into an above ground vault. Axton must’ve had it cleaned for the entombment as there were no overgrown plants and the gate was working fine. It didn’t creak when the knights opened it.

Duchess Genevieve Alvere slid into a vault higher than Tori was tall using a series of pulleys. The roses were put inside with her, along with mementos from others: handkerchiefs from her mother and the Empress that Tori could’ve sworn were identical to the one she had for Lycée; Axton cut off a lock of his hair; Montan ripped a piece of worn, tattered cloth he had been clutching; and the Marquis General placed a dark green ring box inside the vault.

The bricks were laid over the opening, the Archbishop said one final prayer, sprinkled some blessed water over the bricks, and it was done.

The bricklayers, knights, and the Archbishop were seen out by Mr. Merced.

Tori’s mother touched the brick as her lips trembled. “All right, Gen. I can do it now...I’ll do the last thing you asked of me,” she said suddenly. She took a deep breath and turned around. Her green eyes settled on Montan, and she took a few steps towards him, making him shrink back against Axton.

Axton furrowed his brows, worried. Antonia hadn’t spoken to Montan since he arrived, and they didn’t know what to expect.

“Auntie-”

“Your brother hasn’t had his trifecta ceremony,” Antonia said in the same authoritative voice she used when ordering the Guevera knights. “As his older brother, you must select two gods.”

Tori tensed. In the back of her mind, her mother’s words back in her room in Presidio came back to her. “Wait a second....”

“Antonia-” The Marquis General spoke, but Antonia cut him off, speaking directly to Montan.

“My name is Antonia Maria de Guevera de Sophos, Marquess of the Guevera March,” she said, lifting her hand proudly to her chest as she lifted her chin. “When you were a baby, Genevieve asked me to be your godmother. It has been some time and I was uncertain then, but it has lingered with me all these years. You are older now, so I will ask you for your permission instead of forcing it upon you. Montan Alvere, do you want to take on the name she wanted for you: Montan Antoine Tahar de Alvere, and become my godson?”

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