Standing on the steps in the entrance of the castle, Lev was looking at all his people. They had all gathered in the entrance hall at his request. Indeed, this room alone could hold half an army. In fact, almost all the soldiers under his command were there, along with the servants. The monumental staircase was imposing when one entered here, but it did not matter to him.

Hand in hand with Flavia, he spoke.

-Okay, is everyone there? Yes, that's right. Things are a bit backwards, but I'd like to introduce Flavia, my wife.

-Hello! exclaimed everyone at the foot of the stairs, making the room vibrate.

-Hello, she answered humbly with a smile.

She was wearing her veil, which he did not appreciate. Nevertheless, this was not the time to talk about it.

-She is now your Duchess, Lev added. I expect you to respect, protect and obey her. Is that clear?

-Yes boss!

Lev nodded, before turning to his wife. Ah, this veil...

-You can ask anyone you want, in my absence. Your voice is my voice, your authority is mine. Do you agree?

-Mmh... Yes. I'll try not to abuse it.

He smiled arrogantly at her, which made her raise an eyebrow under her veil.

- You are a Clypeus now, Flavia. You can do whatever you want.

She didn't know exactly what he meant by that. Nevertheless, her character did not allow her to apprehend the enormity of these words. Lev, on the other hand, knew it, and he had always made it known.

-Good, he said. Now back to normal life!

*

Her husband did not have time to take a few days off after his wedding, so he had to quickly lock himself in his office with his secretary, determined to make him catch up.

Flavia felt sorry for him. He really didn't seem to want to work.

Perhaps she should offer to help him? After all, she was used to dealing with paperwork and that sort of thing. But then... Maybe imposing herself so soon after the wedding wasn't a good idea.

She also wanted to get to know the place a little better, and especially the servants. People in the North were said to be rough, with a warm side once they had accepted you. Lev had, but... what about the household? The best way to find out was through the kitchen.

Twenty minutes later, she was on the first floor, but she could not find the kitchen. Puzzled, she looked around. All the walls were white here, with a blue ceiling. There was no distinct landmark.

Turning on herself, she tried to establish a map of the place in her mind. This is how she found Gaston.

-Madam Duchess? Can I help you?

-I am lost. Could you tell me how to get to the kitchen?

The old butler smiled kindly at her.

-I was just on my way there. Come along, madam.

It turned out that she was just two hallways and one door away from her goal. There, the kitchen had a completely different feel. Warm, colorful, it had four fires, a table and a multitude of counters to prepare everything. Here, we didn't just prepare the Duke's meals. The whole house was being catered for, and the head chef was full of life.

-Gaston! You here, at this hour? The little Lev is hungry, isn't he!?

-Yes, said the butler with a smile. Madam the Duchess, I present you Ingrid, the cook of the castle.

All activity stopped around them. The two who were baking bread, the one who was peeling potatoes and the cook looked at her with wide eyes.

-Madam Duchess! Sorry for my tone, I...

- No, no, don't apologize, Flavia said quickly. I was just coming to see... Uh... Who are the people who serve my husband.

Ingrid raised her eyebrows, surprised, before giving him a frank smile.

-Ah, but we are curious to know the woman who managed to marry the Duke! Come and sit down, come... Tild, bread and jam!

-Right away! replied a little girl.

Sitting down in front of a copious plate before having understood what happened to her, Flavia saw the butler disappear from her side, a tray loaded for the Duke in the hands. She thus found herself alone, facing the whole kitchen which covered her of a curious glance. Resigned, and by politeness, she pushed back her veil. If some said nothing, but widened their eyes in front of her face, the young Tild pushed an admiring whistle.

-You have the same as Uncle Ulf! Are you a warrior too?

-Mmh...

-But no, said a boy. Noble ladies are not warriors.

-Well yes, Madame Cara and Madame Vera are!

-It's not the same, they are Protectors!

-But then, where do these scars come from, if she does not fight? Be logical!

-Children, be quiet! roared Ingrid, hitting the table with a pie roll.

-Yes, Mom!

Ah... were they the cook's children? Flavia smiled kindly at them, while breaking a piece of bread. If we're going to be here, we might as well make bread.

-To tell the truth, I am one of Vera Gladia's sisters, she explained.

-Oh, really!? exclaimed Tild.

-Yes, seriously. My scars are from a demon attack when I was a kid. My sister saved me that day.

She remembered it very well. How could she not remember, really? That day... Her mother had died.

-Too loud, the boy huffed. I remember the stories now! I heard that your sister was so angry that she slaughtered the demon with one blow of her sword!

-I heard she needed forty-five strokes to get through it! The bad guy was a mess by the end!

-This is not true!

-That's right!

-Children! scolded Ingrid.

-It's nothing, laughs Flavia, handing Tild a slice of jam. After all, I came here to get to know you. On the other hand, my sister did kill him in one fell swoop.

-Ah! You see!

The boy seemed very proud of himself, while Tild drowned his failure in the toast. Flavia set about making another for her brother.

-The Duchess of the West is known for her banter, said Ingrid, looking at her new mistress. But I must admit I've heard few rumors about you. With all due respect, ma'am... How did you get hold of our Lev?

With these last words, Flavia understood the affection that the cook had for her husband. It warmed her heart. Nevertheless...

-I don't know about that, she admitted, handing Tild her toast. I would say that it is rather him who put the grapple on me.

-Oh! Really!?

Honestly? Yes. In view of the events in the cathedral, the carriage and the rest, Flavia wondered. And the letter...

- The Duke had never brought home a damsel, let alone his wife! We are all very curious about you, Duchess.

-Oh, there's not much to know.

-Really? You're the sister of the Sword of Gentem, and we've hardly ever heard of you.

Flavia raised an eyebrow as she handed the third slice of bread to Ingrid, who accepted it with surprise.

-The most surprising thing is that you have heard of me. I have never been introduced to society. I'm only known because of my scars.

-Well, said Tild, licking his fingers. Everyone has scars. What difference does it make?

-In the nobility, Flavia explained, physical defects are unforgivable.

-That's why our Duke is so respected, said Teld. He's super handsome!

-It's true that he's handsome, agreed the Duchess. But in his case, the respect he gets is not only based on his looks. In my case, the disgust that people have for me is based on that and on the fact that my father holds me responsible for the death of my mother. These are two unforgivable flaws.

-The attack? Ingrid simply asked.

-Yes, I did. But enough about me. Tell me about it, kids. How is it going here?

Under Ingrid's supervision, the two children told her almost everything she needed to know about the fortress. Here, Lev was not considered a handsome, sharp-tongued boy, but a hero with a big heart. For good reason. He had built a whole complex of buildings to house his employees in comfort and warmth, a whole section of the hot spring baths was dedicated to their exclusive use, and they had their weekends as well as vacations. Not all the servants were so lucky, as Ingrid confirmed. Life was harder in her grandfather's time, although he was a good man.

It was a chance to work for Lev Clypeus. But there were sides.

Like dealing with the Duke's family. She didn't say anything more on the subject, because they were nobles too, but the cook obviously didn't like them.

Anyway, at some point the conversation drifted to much less important things, like...

-You must have a lot of dresses! exclaimed Tild. Say, could I see them!?

-Uh... To tell you the truth...

Running out of bread and jam, Flavia wiped her hands on a tea towel as she thought about her answer.

-Actually, I only have two dresses.

She jumped as two hands came down on the table on either side of her. Wide-eyed, she looked up to see her husband. He seemed upset. Uh...

-What do you mean you only have two dresses?

-I didn't plan to marry you, I remind you. In fact, I had only planned the bare minimum.

-Gaston!

-Yes, sir?

-Send a message to the milliner in the capital. I want her here tomorrow.

-Yes, sir.

-What? exclaimed Flavia. But I don't need...

Her husband wrinkled his eyelids, clearly displeased. On their side, Ingrid, her two children and all the kitchen staff were watching the scene with great interest.

-I won't leave my wife with two poor dresses. Are your things at your parents' house?

-N... No. I live in the western fortress, with Vera in normal times...

-So, let's go. Good day Ingrid, Tild, Teld.

*

It did not take as long to get to the western fortress as it did to return from the capital. This building was located against the border, just like the one in Lev to the north, so there was a portal connecting the two places.

In fact, there were four such fortresses, where the four Dukes lived. They were high strategic places, which concealed a special room in their foundations. Only a few people had access to it.

The portal room was identical in structure in all four fortresses. The room was hexagonal. There was a door to enter, which was quite normal. Then there were five moving blue disks on the other five walls. One for each of the three duchies to be visited, plus one for the Mage's tower, and the last one to go directly to the royal palace.

This was the way Rainier, Eleazar, and Cara must have come to see them that morning.

Flattered to be able to discover a room of this importance, Flavia observed the names engraved on plaques above the portals. They were old, with a patina of age. How many generations of Protectors had come and gone here? How many Tower Mages had maintained the magic of the place? How many Shields had passed through here?

-Maybe I should block the western portal, Lev muttered, considering the portal in question. That would keep your sister from coming to kick my ass when she gets back.

-Come on. Why would she do such a thing?

-Ah believe me, she will do it! he warned her by taking her by the hand. Come on.

A slight chill ran through Flavia as they passed through the portal. The western room was the same as the northern one. When they reached the floor, hand in hand, Flavia couldn't help but comment to him.

To introduce him to the place.

The western fortress was nothing like the northern one. This one, in full spring revival, was more like a residence open to the outside. The gardens seemed to fit inside the residence, whose warm orange-red stones illuminated each room. The place was friendly, family-like, even.

The people of the household greeted Flavia happily, before freezing when they discovered her there. Especially with the Duke of Clypeus at her side, his hand in hers.

She didn't really realize it. Nor did she see Lev's gentle gaze on her as she introduced him to her old home. Things got more complicated when they reached the entrance hall.

-What the hell are you doing here?

That furious roar she recognized without the slightest hesitation. Like a raging bull, her father charged at them, his fists balled. Flavia clutched Lev's hand between her fingers, livid, while searching for her veil. She realized that she had put it back on by reflex. Phew.

-Are you talking to me? said the Duke of Clypeus, with a smirk on his face.

-Get out of my house!

-From your home? repeated Lev, tilting his head slightly to one side. Last I heard, you're at Vera Gladia's house. Not at home.

-She is my daughter! What's hers is mine!

How dare he say that! Outraged by his arrogance, especially in front of Gentem 's Shield, Flavia opened her mouth...

-Well, I'm curious to know if you can say that to her face, said the Duke thoughtfully. Given her character, I have a doubt... Ah, but... She will be even more interested in the fact that you had her sister married in her name, in her place, behind her back... What do you think, Flavia?

She felt bad. Already she could see familiar faces under the arches, coming out of all the doors. The guards on duty had rushed to the source of the roar, and the curious servants, alerted by those they had met earlier, were suddenly confronted with a scene in which she was involved.

This fortress had always been his refuge.

But...

-I think that Vera will take it very badly, she admitted.

-Absolutely, Lev agreed with a big smile.

-You weren't supposed to marry her!

Red with fury, his father glared at both of them. How could Lev stand such hostility without flinching? Ah... Yes, he had already faced his father like that, so that he could insult Lev through marriage...

-Wasn't I supposed to marry him? Oh, gosh... I thought so... We were both dressed in our wedding clothes in front of the priest, weren't we?

-Yes, indeed, approved Flavia, grimacing under her veil.

- So... It was good to get married in the cathedral, in front of all these guests... Ah... But I heard my wife say something strange, by the way...

She perceived the change in her husband's tone long before her father, or anyone else who was watching the scene. Oh oh...

-I hear you consider my wife an insult? Lev snapped, his violet eyes glowing like a promise of a thousand deaths.

-She's my daughter, hisses her father. I think and say what I want about her!

-I don't think so. Although I should perhaps thank you, on second thought? Thanks to you, I was able to marry the one I wanted.

-That's enough! Flavia, come back here! The wedding will be cancelled anyway!

The young woman froze. What? What do you mean?

-Oops, that's not going to be possible, said the Duke with a falsely contrite air. We've already consummated our marriage.

There, for the blow, Flavia gave him a tap on the shoulder, while pushing back her veil. Her father was foaming with rage. Lev gave her an innocent smile.

-Lev!

-Yes?

-He's still my father!

-So what? He has the right to know that he can potentially become a grandfather in nine months, right?

-Lev! That's enough!

-Okay. Now, where is your room? We still have your stuff to get.

She pointed to the stairs with a peremptory gesture, which he took rather well. Taking back her hand, he left towards the stairs. With a last look at her father, Flavia turned away, ignoring the servants as she went. It was better thus, not? Once her things had been recovered, the chapter would be closed.

Things would be settled quickly, and smoothly.

It was a mistake to believe it.

Her father grabbed her by the arm, pulling her violently back, pulling her away from Lev. Wide-eyed, she stumbled toward him, her foot slipping on the edge of the step. She saw his hand raised, ready to slap her. His palms were wide, and they hurt.

But this time Lev's fist met his father's cheek before it reached him.

A shout went up among the spectators. Yet not one stepped forward to help him as he staggered backwards, nor when the Duke struck him again, before throwing him against the wall, one hand around his throat.

Stunned, her stomach in knots, Flavia was as if paralyzed by the sudden outburst of violence. The man who had terrified her for so many years had a bloody face.

-I see things haven't been made clear enough, Lev snapped, his cruel gaze locked on his father's. That's my wife you just tried to hit. That's my wife you just tried to hit. So let's take it from the top.

Still holding him by the throat, he led him in front of Flavia. His uncommon strength prevented any retreat, any escape. The fingers inserted in his neck, the Duke projected his father to the ground, without sparing.

-It is now Flavia Clypeus, Duchess of Clypeus, wife of the Shield of Gentem, wife of the Protector of the North.

Crouching beside the humiliated man on his stomach, Lev leaned into his ear.

-Then kneel before your Duchess, vassal.