The travelers ultimately split up for the rest of the day after Alfyn, Ophilia, and H'aanit got to work on healing Primrose. The Forsythe home was still small, and they all needed a bit of space and air after what they had seen. None of them quite understood just how Primrose had wound up being stabbed in the first place, but they didn't want to push the subject at the moment either. Primrose was still unconscious, and until she came to once again, they wouldn't be able to learn much of anything. It would be better for them all if they spent their valuable time in other ways rather than just worrying at her bedside. They had done more than enough of that already, and night was drawing nearer with each passing minute. 

Even so, Cyrus didn't leave until after he was certain Primrose would be alright. He would never admit it aloud, but he needed an excuse to get away from the Forsythe home after what he had seen. He couldn't seem to tear the image of the collapsed Primrose out of his mind, and he could only hope he snapped out of it soon. Hopefully, a distraction would be enough to help him ground himself again. That was what he was pinning his faith on at the moment anyway. 

Tressa stayed close to Cyrus' side as they ambled through the streets of Noblecourt. They had to lean against one another just a bit too much for support between the stress put on Cyrus' body over the last few days and the ever noticeable strain in Tressa's ankle. Both injuries were improving steadily and had been ever since the battle against Miguel ended, but they wouldn't be able to walk far given their condition. 

So they stayed as close as they could to the Forsythe home while still straying outside the walls of Noblecourt. Luckily, their destination wasn't far from the wall, and Cyrus had managed to maintain his stamina on the walk to Barham's home. Tressa knocked for him as soon as they came to a stop outside the small building, and the two waited in silence for an answer. 

Luckily, they weren't left waiting for long, and the door swung open to reveal the smiling face of Barham, though his expression shifted with shock when he realized who his unexpected guests were. "Cyrus and Tressa!" he exclaimed. "I didn't think I would see you of all people today. Please, come inside." 

The two travelers were more than happy to follow Barham's instructions, and they gladly settled down on chairs sitting beside a table in the main room of the home. Before either one of them had the chance to ask Barham how he was doing, their eyes drifted to a different corner of the building. Orlick was standing in front of the counter and blending a few ingredients together for some kind of potion, so lost in his work that he didn't even realize he had company in the first place. It wasn't until Barham cleared his throat that Orlick snapped out of his daze, and he turned to face the pair with a smile on his face. "Ah, we have company!" Orlick cried out, his voice surprisingly jubilant given the way he had behaved when Cyrus and Tressa were last in Noblecourt. 

"I hope you don't mind us dropping in unannounced," Cyrus said, unable to pull his gaze away from Orlick for long. He had expected the ruby dragonstone to finally release its hold on Orlick once it was returned to the comfort of its sapphire companion, its poisonous effects diminishing in the presence of its sister. Even so, knowing that and seeing it were two entirely different things. "We came to town as part of something of a spur of the moment decision."

"Don't worry about it at all," Barham assured him. When he noticed the strange glances Cyrus and Tressa were giving his research partner, Barham tapped himself on the forehead. "Silly me. I forgot you didn't know about this." He gestured to Orlick once again with a grand smile on his face. "I owe a lot to you travelers. After you defeated Orlick, he finally returned to his senses, and we've gone back to researching together."

Orlick stared at Cyrus and Tressa for a few moments before processing what Barham had told him. "You must have been two of the people who..." He trailed off before he could finish, laughing nervously to himself instead. "I'm afraid I don't remember much of my time with the ruby dragonstone. According to Barham, it did a lot to distort my mind."

"It certainly did," Tressa agreed with a loose huff of a laugh. "We got it back where it belongs though, so everything is fine now. You have nothing to worry about." 

"I'm glad to hear it," Barham smiled as he and Orlick sat down across from Cyrus and Tressa. "What brings you back to town? I was under the impression you would be traveling for quite some time yet."

"We had other business to take care of in the city," Cyrus said in the place of a true answer. He didn't think he would have been able to explain everything that had happened in the Obsidian Mansion even if he wanted to, so silence was going to have to settle in the meantime. "I wanted to come by and thank you while we had the chance though. That map you gave us has come in handy and then some."

"Perfect. I was hoping it would," Barham beamed. "You'll have to tell me all about the magical sites you visited according to that map's readings. I imagine you've found quite the series of marvels."

Tressa opened her mouth to explain, but before she had the chance, Cyrus cut her off with a shake of his head. "I'm afraid that will have to wait a short while longer. First, I have another question for you," he began. 

"Another question?" Tressa echoed. "Did something happen, Cyrus? Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine," Cyrus assured her. "However, I have had a rather nasty battle with curiosity raging in the background ever since we arrived here in Noblecourt. Primrose's friend feels strangely familiar to me, and I would like to figure out why." He turned to face Barham and Orlick. "His name is Simeon, and he has pale lavender hair bordering on silver. Does that sound familiar?"

Barham cupped one hand around his chin and thought for a long moment before sighing. "I feel like it should," he confessed. "But I can't quite figure out where I remember hearing that name."

Orlick snapped his fingers and pushed himself to his feet, moving so quickly that his chair was nearly sent clattering backwards to the ground in the process. He dashed over to a bookshelf and pulled out a title before starting to flick through the pages. "Simeon was the name of the prince who won the Ventus Dynasty's civil war over a hundred years ago," Orlick explained. 

"Ventus Dynasty? Civil war?" Tressa echoed. "What are you talking about?"

"The Ventus Dynasty was an empire in the Highlands about one hundred and twenty years ago," Orlick explained as he flicked through the pages with an almost feverish intensity. "The crown prince died prematurely, and his remaining two brothers battled for the throne. The older son was a bastard child born of a concubine while the younger was the son of the queen. The two went to war, and the younger child won. His name was Simeon. There was only a single painting of him done before he disappeared under mysterious circumstances, and the dynasty fell soon afterward, its lands almost entirely abandoned." Orlick finally found the page he was looking for, and he turned it around to show Cyrus. "Does this look right?"

Cyrus' eyes went wide. Sure enough, the sketch depicting the one and only famous painting of the younger prince. Simeon Ventus' features were identical to those Cyrus had seen on Primrose's friend, and the similarity was so striking it was unmistakable. He had seen this picture and name in a book back in the Atlasdam Royal Archives in times long gone. That was why Simeon seemed so familiar. 

Oh no. 

"I need to go talk to Primrose," Cyrus suddenly declared, pushing himself out of his seat and dashing toward the door while using the Aether Scepter to stabilize himself. "Can I borrow that book?" Orlick nodded and handed the book to Cyrus, and the scholar tucked it under his arm in the midst of his hasty retreat. "You may stay here or accompany me, Tressa. The choice is yours." 

Before Tressa had the chance to protest though, Cyrus was gone, and all she could do was stare at the door in the silence. Barham cleared his throat once again to try and change the subject, and Tressa glanced back in his direction. "What about those magical discoveries you made?" he asked. "Would you be interested in talking about them?"

Tressa's face lit up, and she pulled her journal out of her bag before starting to turn the pages at breakneck speeds. "Oh, would I ever!"

~~~~~

Primrose sat in one of the chairs near a window in the Azelhart estate, her eyes cast on the expansive garden below. Her shoulders were tense from another day spent worrying about how to win her father's approval, and the room around her was quiet. Even so, she knew she would be alright so long as she was not alone.

Simeon stood in another part of the room, tending to the drooping petals of a flower resting in a vase. Once he was satisfied, he pulled away from the buds to start toward the door. Primrose snapped out of her haze when she heard movement, and she hummed as she turned to face him. Simeon had realized he had been spotted, and he stopped halfway between Primrose and the door, giving her all the time she needed to push her small body off the chair and approach him. "Simeon...?"

"Yes?" Simeon asked, turning his head over his shoulder just enough for Primrose to start seeing his face. "What do you want?" His eyes were somewhat distant in a way Primrose couldn't put a finger on, but seeing him look so hurt made her heart ache just the same.

"Where are you going?" Primrose questioned, hoping she didn't come off as too desperate for wanting him to stay there with her. His break time was almost over, and that meant he would have to go back to the garden again soon. She knew that, and yet, she wanted to fight it all the same.

"To work. Where else?" Simeon countered. He took a few more steps toward the door. "The hedges want for trimming." Somehow, the bushes always wanted a bit of extra attention, and Primrose had to wonder just what the greenery had done to earn the focus of the one she admired most. In some ways, she wished she could mimic the plants just enough to make sure Simeon's eyes stayed in her direction for a little bit longer than they otherwise would have.

"Who cares about the gardens?" Primrose practically pleaded. "Won't you stay here with me? I feel so much at peace when you're with me." She closed the distance between them with quick but clumsy feet. "Won't you read me one of your poems? Pretty please?" Primrose was selfish to think Simeon would be able to stay there with her forever, but she couldn't bring herself to care. No one quite alleviated her loneliness quite like Simeon. They loved each other in secret when nobody else in the Azelhart mansion was looking, keeping each other like an oath only they would ever understand. Not even Odette knew of Primrose's stolen moments of love, and she told her sister everything in their exchanged letters. Simeon had insisted on keeping it a secret, and Primrose had followed suit even though she wished he would be willing to keep her for a little while longer whenever they visited.

For a few heavy seconds, Primrose began to fear Simeon would refuse. He had never been able to resist her for long though, and he let out a sigh of surrender that sounded far less disappointed than he wanted to make it seem. "As you wish, my lady." He pulled Primrose into a tight embrace, and she gladly breathed in that gentle scent of lavender with every bit of air she had in her small lungs. "And worry not your pretty heart. I will always be watching over you."

Primrose smiled, and she let her grin bury itself against the fabric of his jacket. "Oh, thank you..." She had never been able to thank Simeon enough, but she hoped he knew it even so. No one quite understood her the way he did, and she trusted that he comprehended it all in that silence there in his arms as well. He had understood every other time, and Primrose would never underestimate the power of love in the hands of the man she adored most. 

~~~~~

Primrose awoke slowly, her eyes fluttering open just enough for her to catch a glimpse of the ceiling overhead. She closed her eyes again moments later, taking the time to try and ground herself before she made the effort to awaken once again. A dull throbbing in her side greeted her almost immediately, and she wondered if it had all been a dream even before she registered just what she was accusing of being a phantom in the night. The pain was more than enough to prove that it had been real though, and she hated having to admit that.

"Lady Primrose!"

The sound of Revello's voice pulled Primrose back to the present, and she realized she was surrounded by familiar faces. Revello, Anna, Alfyn, H'aanit, and Ophilia were lining the edges of the mattress Primrose had come to call her own ever since she suffered her injury, and all of them were watching her with wide, worried eyes. Revello smiled and pressed a hand to his chest once Primrose blinked and took a deep breath to ground herself again. "Oh, the heavens can be merciful..." he murmured. "It's been hours, and you've not moved at all. I was beginning to fear you wouldn't make it."

"There was something on the knife you were stabbed with," Anna chimed in. "I believe your friend called it some sort of sleeping and paralysis agent... It was almost as dangerous as the stab itself, but he was able to cure it by acting as quickly as he did."

Primrose nodded, and she realized a bit belatedly that this was why she had felt so sick when she was first stabbed. She had been weakened from the injury, but beyond that, the knife had been working against her to ensure she was left unable to fight back. Simeon had done that to her. The man she had thought she loved had betrayed her to the point of stabbing her, and she hadn't been able to fight back until it was too late. Even if she had tried to fight him, it wouldn't have made a difference. 

"What happened?" Ophilia asked slowly. "A-All the rest of us know is that you were looking around for information in that room, and when we came back... You were on the ground with a knife in your stomach!" Ophilia was trying her best to keep her tone even so as to not frighten or agitate Primrose, but it was much easier said than done. The last few cities had been enough of an assault on her nerves, but this was the last straw that finally made everything snap. 

Primrose hesitated for a long time, wishing she knew how to answer that question. Simeon had done this to her. He was the leader of the Obsidians. He was the man who bore the mark of the head of the crow. He was the one who had killed her father. He had proved as much just after stabbing her, and even so, Primrose had no idea how to respond or explain such a thing. She had been so certain she could trust him given their years of history, but it had all amounted to nothing. Simeon didn't care in the end. He stabbed her before she could process what was happening, and she had let him because she believed in him. 

As he had said, her one true love had betrayed her... But now, she doubted if that was the case at all. 

Primrose deliberately avoided looking H'aanit in the eyes as she forced herself to explain. "Simeon," she choked out. "He appeared through some hidden passageway in the wall. The mansion has tunnels, and he used that to get inside without being caught. If I had to guess, Albus was counting on reinforcements from him throughout the battle, but..." She swallowed dryly and shook her head. "Simeon is the leader of the Obsidians. He killed my father, and... He stabbed me before running away."

Ophilia's hands flew up to cover her mouth, and Alfyn muttered a swear under his breath as he looked away. Revello let out a heavy sigh and shook his head. "Albus wasn't the only traitor in House Azelhart," he muttered. "Even the gardener was in on his plan... Though I suppose it wasn't Albus plan in the end, was it?"

Primrose swallowed around the knot that had risen in her throat, and she found herself selfishly yearning for a way to return to the dream she had been having before all of this. Maybe if she lied to herself enough, she would be able to believe that Simeon had truly cared about her. She knew it was a lie though. He had been stringing her along from the start just to see her suffer. All of their time together had been forged for this sole purpose, and Primrose was only realizing it too late. She should have known that Simeon's words were too good to be true when she arrived in the city, but she hadn't seen through him until the knife was already inside of her. How could she have been such a fool?

Simeon had known she was in a fragile state. He was too good at reading people to not have been aware of it from the start. He already knew she was struggling, and he had taken advantage of that to betray her when she thought she was safe. He could see the pain in her eyes, and he had wanted to worsen it. Primrose was the newest star of the show he had been penning for the last ten years, and she had danced for Simeon the same way she had back when she thought they were in love ten years ago. How disgusting could she be?

"Simeon no doubt fled the city as soon as he was finished with you," Revello murmured. "One of your friends thought to go out and search for him so he could come and talk to you once you awoke, but... I see now that won't be happening."

Primrose shook her head. If she spoke, she would just end up crying, and she didn't want to embarrass herself by being human in front of these people who loved her so dearly. She didn't deserve their love on a good day, but she especially hadn't earned it today. She had failed. She was weak, and Simeon had seen it. Primrose had been too foolish and naive to see the games he was playing until it was already too late, and she absolutely detested herself for it. 

"If this man is the leader of the Obsidians, then..." H'aanit trailed off before she could finish, but Primrose already knew what she was going to say. If Simeon was responsible for the chaos in Noblecourt, the suffering in Stillsnow, and the ripple effects felt to the far corners of Orsterra, then he needed to be stopped. He couldn't be allowed to roam freely any longer than he already. had. Simeon being let go had led to the deaths of Geoffrey and countless other people, and Primrose couldn't sit back and let him continue to hurt those around him. 

But she couldn't jump out into the heart of danger yet either. Her wounds would be healing for quite some time yet, and Primrose somehow doubted she would be allowed to fight in any significant battles in Wellspring once the group got there. She wanted to pursue Simeon, to hear the truth in full detail from his lips, but she couldn't do that yet. She didn't even know where he was going, and she didn't know how she was going to figure that out either. 

"Until then, you need to recover," Alfyn cut in before Primrose could even think of implying she wanted to go after him. "I can put together a new medicine for the pain if anythin' hurts. Just say the word." Despite his endless kindness, there was a distance to his eyes that told Primrose he was far from Noblecourt, and the mere sight made her bite down on her bottom lip hard enough she feared she would draw blood. 

Primrose nodded dully, leaning back against the pillows beneath her a bit more. "I'd appreciate that. Thank you, Alfyn." With that, Alfyn got to work immediately, and Revello and Anna took that as their cue to back away. H'aanit was on the verge of offering her services to Alfyn, but he was working too quickly for her to keep up, so she instead cast Primrose one last glance before walking a short distance away with Linde at her heels to give the dancer space. Part of Primrose wanted to plead for H'aanit to stay as close as possible, but she didn't let herself succumb to the urge. She hadn't earned it, and if she had ever won the right, then she had lost it the instant she let Simeon stab her. 

Primrose stared down at her hands in the silence, feeling them shake before she set them back against the blankets again. Simeon had coated that knife with some other kind of drug. He wanted to make sure Primrose didn't get any help... And if not for the quick thinking of the travelers, he would have succeeded. The thought made her nauseous, but she couldn't reverse the damage it had done now. All she could do was recover... Though recovery was the last thing Primrose wanted to do. What had happened to being a blade for the dead meant to strike true at the hearts of their murderers? When had she fallen so far?

"Does... Does it ever bother you?"

Primrose snapped herself back to the present at the sound of Alfyn's voice, and she blinked a few times before reminding her voice to respond. "What do you mean?" she asked thickly. He couldn't have been talking about her stab wound; he already knew that hurt. If that was the case though, then what was he--

"When you kill people," Alfyn explained, the words coming out soft and mumbled. "Does it bother you that you have to do it?" His eyes were trained solely on the mortar and pestle in his hands, a deliberate effort to not have to look at Primrose directly, and they both knew it. 

Primrose didn't know how to respond to that even though she desperately wished she did. She tried to answer a few times before she eventually let out a sigh. "I... I don't know," she admitted. Back when she first killed Helgenish, she had thought it felt good to revel in the suffering of the man who had done so much to harm her, Yusufa, and every other dancer working under his employ. When she murdered Rufus though, that high came quickly before subsiding just as soon. Primrose was left wondering if this was meant to be her purpose at all, and if it was, what was the point of any of it? She couldn't just abandon this cause of hers, but she didn't want to follow it to the end either. What was her problem? 

Alfyn nodded slowly, and he let out a careful sigh as he chose his next words just as cautiously. "I... I've been thinkin' about it a lot lately," he confessed, and Primrose knew he was thinking about Miguel without even needing to ask. "Do... Do you still want to kill people? Do you want to follow this to the end? Have you ever wanted to do that?" He realized how terrible his words sounded as soon as he spoke them, and he moved desperately to cover his tracks. "I-I mean, I guess you don't have a choice now, but did you ever wonder if you could stop? Is it okay that I'm even askin'?"

Primrose hesitated, the question cutting through her far deeper than Simeon's knife had. She had projected confidence from the instant she joined the travelers, declaring her cause to be a righteous one because she needed to convince herself of that idea just as much as the rest of her friends. If she let the mask slip for even a second, then they would start to question her, and even worse, Primrose would start to question herself. Then again, she hadn't been able to prevent that, had she? The fear had come in hot and fast after she killed Rufus, and she didn't know what to do with it. She never had, and she doubted she ever would. 

"I... I don't know," Primrose repeated. She needed to respond to him for his own sake more than her own, but she couldn't find a way to answer the question that didn't admit just how low she had sunk since starting this journey. Avenging her father was all she had, but Primrose was at her happiest when she let that thought fall to the wayside in favor of helping the rest of her friends. Coming to Noblecourt had been a mistake, and she had made it knowingly and recklessly in the name of that ambition she had long lost her love for... But she couldn't say that. To admit that she had doubts would be to betray her father and Yusufa. Too many people had died for Primrose to stop now. She had to press forward no matter what. It was all she was good for. 

Alfyn and Primrose both had other things to say, but they never had the chance to explain it before the door flew open. The noise was a needle in Primrose's skull, but she did her best to hide her wince as Cyrus came into view. "I've got it!" he exclaimed. He darted over to Primrose, his face red from exertion, adrenaline, and anxiety. He barely even realized that she was awake, though the relief flashed in his eyes before he spoke. "Simeon... That friend of yours is not who he says he is."

Primrose let out a loose huff, hating the treacherous rage that seeped into her unwilling voice. "You can say that again," she muttered crossly. Alfyn finished with his medicine, and he handed the bottle to her. She downed it all in one swig, the sour taste reminding her to stay focused even when dissociation was such a strong temptation. 

"I realized why I recognized him," Cyrus explained quickly. He pulled a book from under his arm and flipped to a page near the middle of the volume before holding it up to Primrose. "Your friend, Simeon... He is the heir to the fallen Ventus Dynasty which would have been in modern day Everhold. I saw his face in a book in the archives before we began traveling together." Cyrus looked at the page for a few seconds before continuing, his words coming out rushed and haphazard. "I cannot say how he has maintained his youth for over a hundred and twenty years, but it must have been some kind of magic. Regardless, he remains alive, and--"

"I need to rest," Primrose suddenly blurted out. She was acutely aware of the lack of air in her lungs and the pounding of her heart against her chest, but she did her best to not let either one show on her face. "It's late. Goodnight." 

Alfyn, Ophilia, and Cyrus all shared a worried glance in one another's direction, but Primrose didn't give them the chance to say anything on the matter, instead retreating back into her blankets and pressing her cheek against the pillow. Her mind was swimming with every horrible thought it could have possibly had, and Primrose knew that if she remained upright, she would have made herself sick. Instead, she turned her head away from the travelers and closed her eyes against the tears rushing to her eyes. The wrongness of it all--of Simeon treating her like she was his true love ten years ago and now--hit her like a stab to the stomach. She needed to think through this once she had slept, but for the time being, all she wanted was to numb the agony of the world. Her wound was far from her greatest concern now though. Her mind was reeling from the aftermath of a treachery she had not known in full until Cyrus opened his mouth. 

When morning came, Primrose would think about this in more detail. In the meantime, she let tears stream down her cheeks in wordless rivers, her stomach twisting into new knots each time she took in a breath. Primrose refused to let herself sob aloud, and she prayed she would be granted that mercy in her dreams. She couldn't go back to dreaming of Simeon as she had hoped when she first awoke. Even thinking of him made her feel dirty, the kind of filthiness that no amount of bathing would ever fully wash away. 

Primrose's exhaustion of the body and soul claimed her soon afterward, and she let it without a second though. Even in dreams though, the feeling of the grime of his touch against her skin would not grant her peace. 

And even if it had, she wouldn't have deserved it. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

...I promise I have a good explanation for this. 

I said before that I probably wouldn't be able to do any other bonus chapters before the start of 2024 because I've been working on my super secret other project... Well, that other project is stalled for the next three days, and the Break and Boost 2 soundtrack just dropped. I couldn't take all of my new writing energy out on that, so I had to come back here and write more of Primrose three. An hour and a half later... This chapter is done. Here you go. A gift to honor the new soundtrack driving me insane in the best way possible. 

This chapter marks the end of our canon dialogue and travel banter for Primrose three... And a hell of a lot of canon divergence. Essentially all of the dialogue save for the flashback is different here to account for the new ways Primrose shares the truth. Nobody knows Simeon did it until Primrose explains. The travel banter with Alfyn is different too because of... Situations and circumstances that feel very obvious given what he's been going through. I'm very happy with this finished product though. 

This chapter also knocked out four of the ten scenes I had in mind for the aftermath of Primrose three. There's a hell of a lot more coming up, but for now... Here you go, everyone. Isn't this deliciously horrible? The main bit of canon divergence is the fact that Cyrus figured out who Simeon really is. I know that was kept to supplemental material in canon, but I couldn't just do that here. He recognizes Simeon because he saw him in a book while working in Atlasdam. Yeah. It's bad. 

And it only gets worse from here! Next time, we get to explore Primrose's reaction to all of this. Hoo boy. Until then, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I mean it for real this time when I say I won't be doing any bonus updates after this... Maybe. Who knows? Either way, feedback is appreciated as always. Have a nice day, everyone!

-Digital