Never in her life had Flavia seen that expression on her sister's face.

Vera Gladia, the Sword of Gentem, was terrifying when she was mad with rage.

And the target of this fury was Lev.

- Vera, calm down!

-How dare you touch my sister!?

Lev had just enough time to materialize his Shield, to deflect the Sword she threw at him. He swore and stood in front of Flavia, throwing a blanket over her. She appreciated the gesture. Nevertheless, while Vera rushed towards them, she quickly pulled up Lev's pants, in order to hide his erection.

-Thank you, he breathed, just before impact.

Disappearing his Shield, Lev was hit head-on by Vera. He fell like a lump from the bed, his sister astride him, hitting him. Flavia then realized the situation.

-Vera! she shouted.

-Listen to me, damn it! said Lev, trying to stop the fists raining down on him.

-You dared to touch my sister!

For God's sake, she could never stop him with her words! Grabbing a pillow, Flavia gave a big blow to Vera's head.

This had the desired effect. Her sister froze, turning her head towards her with a look full of betrayal and incomprehension.

-Vera, that's enough! Let us explain the situation!

-We're fucking married! exclaimed Lev.

-And he wasn't raping me!

One fist in the air, the other around the Duke's throat, the Sword of Gentem wrinkled her nose. Her hair a mess, covered with dust and a smell of sulfur, she seemed to be in a total state of confusion. Knowing her, she must have arrived from the mission ten minutes ago, at most. The time it took to tell her that the violent Duke who had beaten up her father had married her little sister.

- Is this true?

-Vera! Let him go!

-I am suffocating...

She released Lev, who took a deep, gasping breath.

-Well... The hard part is done... he gurgled. Now get off of me, please.

-Oh...

His sister stood up, crossing her arms.

- Okay. Explain it to me, will you?

-I'm allowed to be a little nervous before?

-Shut up, Lev. Flavia?

Wrapped in the blanket, Flavia looked over the edge of the bed at her husband. Lying on his back, he had a bruised face.

-How are you?

He raised his head, to smile at her. Ooh, he had an open eyebrow.

-I'm fine. How about you?

- Ah, I'm not the one who got hit. Vera, did you really have to do that?

Blushing, her sister scratched her head with an embarrassed look. As brown as her younger sister, she had dark slanted eyes that seemed to be permanently made up. And yet, Vera was the last person to be interested in this kind of things.

-I may have overreacted a bit.

-That's the least we can say, remarked Flavia as she helped her husband to his feet. But I thank you for your concern, Vera.

Five minutes later, they were all in one of the fortress' lounges. How many were there? Flavia was still unable to say. Nevertheless, for the moment, it was not the question. Shirtless, head back with a bag of ice on the arch, Lev looked dejected as hell. As for his sister, she always seemed to be about to hit him.

So she began to summarize the situation for him.

-Father did this? scolded Vera.

-Yes.

-Lev.

-Yeah?

-Why did you agree to marry my sister?

Ah. Always the same question.

-Why the hell is everyone asking that!? he exclaimed as he straightened up, without letting go of his ice bag. Is it so surprising that I decide to marry Flavia!?

-Tell me, shithead, you turned down five brides before this, and humiliated them at the altar. My question is legitimate. Why is that?

-Because Flavia is the only person I ever wanted. Is that okay with you?

The young woman's eyes widened. Vera smiled wickedly.

-We'll say it's valid. Flavia... Is everything okay with you?

-Right? Uh... Yes.

-Well... Then I'll leave you lovebirds to it. I've got a couple of fists to shake with our dad.

When the door slammed, they were both alone. Lev let his head fall back with a deep sigh. Uncertain, Flavia looked at his profile. His eyes closed, his silver hair in a mess, he seemed upset. Which wasn't surprising either.

Not knowing what to say, confused by her husband's statement, she blurted out:

-I had never seen my sister like this.

-Vera is a big freak.

-Lev!

-What?

He turned his head towards her, a small devilish smile on his lips.

- You worship your sister, and she loves you more than anything. But the fact remains that with everyone else, she is intractable. Especially with me!

-Lev... You really don't get along with Vera?

Raising an eyebrow, he withdrew his ice bag, to look at her better. The anguish in his wife's tone had alerted him.

-Yes, I even get along with her quite well. It's just her character. I'm a bitch, she's a big freak. And most of all, I'm mad at her for cutting us off in the middle of the act.

They stared at each other. Strangely, Flavia didn't think about her scars once she was by his side. She could only see him, and his eyes. His violet eyes that stared at her as if she were the most beautiful woman in the world.

-Am I really the only one you ever wanted?

His smile became a little more naughty.

-Am I really your unthinkable fantasy?

*

It was decided, she would tell Lev about the letters as soon as she returned.

Standing on a small platform, Flavia was in the middle of a fitting. She had completely forgotten about the milliner's story. Busy distributing croissants to the guards on duty, which gave her a good excuse to chat with everyone, she had been stunned to see Bea, the Duke's real steward, arrive with a lady dressed in pink and frilly. Lots of frills.

She had reluctantly left the basket with Tild and Teld, the cook's two children. There was a 50/50 chance they would eat everything before they reached the last of the guards.

Anyway, she had quickly found herself in underwear with Bea and the milliner, busy taking her measurements. Embarrassed, she said to herself that she would have preferred Lev to take care of this task. He would have made himself a pleasure of it, she thought, but he had left to the combat at the beginning of the morning.

Fortunately for him, he had a much greater capacity for recovery than she did. Or was it because she was not used to sex? In any case, she was tired.

-You have a perfectly proportioned body, madam! the milliner was ecstatic, turning around her.

-A... ah?

-Yes! Didn't the Duke tell you!?

-Uh, no.

Nevertheless, he had already studied the question very, very closely. She refrained from adding that. The milliner didn't need to know that.

-The Duke doesn't give you any compliments!? exclaimed the woman, outraged.

What was her name again? Maeve, or something like that? In short, it was not of great importance. Flavia had not been mistaken in assuming that rumors of her marriage had already spread to all levels of society, and that the most beautiful groom in the kingdom was to be pitied for having fallen for the ugliest bride in Gentem.

At this moment, however, she was not wearing her veil. Her scars were clearly visible, and she could discern the milliner's reluctance to look her in the eye. If she said anything, it would be distorted and amplified in a day to the four corners of the kingdom.

-Compliments are hollow, she declared coldly. Only actions count, Miss Maeve.

The latter does not lose her smile.

-By the way, I hear the Duke has a bad temper! I hope all is well with you.

This snoop...

-Don't worry, I'll let you know the day I need your marital advice, Flavia said dryly.

She did not appreciate this type of attitude. Maeve suddenly became paler. Behind her, Bea approved of her reaction. She chose this moment to intervene.

Madam Duchess, the two-week wedding ball is coming up. What dress would you like?

-Any one of these will do.

-Really? said the milliner, pulling herself together. The dress has a special meaning for this event.

-Ah?

Flavia glanced at Bea, who nodded in agreement.

-Yes, ma'am. Depending on the color of your dress, people will know whether or not you have consummated your marriage.

Stunned, the young woman looked at the steward, then at the milliner. The latter did not dare to look her in the eyes. Finally, to look at her face.

-But what does that have to do with them?

-It's an old tradition, ma'am. As old as Gentem. In fact, it's the sole purpose of the two-weekly ball. To make sure that the procreation attempts have started.

For the blow, Flavia burst out laughing. She was in a hurry to speak about it to her husband, here! If Bea smiled softly at her reaction, the milliner, it, seemed interloqué. Obviously. Given the sacrificed face of the new Duchess, she had not envisaged that the beautiful Duke could have the least sexual velléité towards her.

The rest of the day was calm. They chose the fabrics for her future dresses, and for other more functional outfits. Bea insisted on making her several coats, boots and warm socks. It was spring in the North, so Flavia was not yet aware of what winter would bring.

Trusting a native of the area, she approved, before widening her eyes at the projected bill. She would ask her husband if it was a good idea to take so many things. Bea assured him it was, but she had her doubts.

It was the commotion outside the fitting room that drew Flavia out of her bewildered contemplation of the various dresses. Worried that it was the injured return of her husband, she went out hastily, dressed in her simplest blue dress.

- You are fired!

What do you mean, fired? The tone was that of a woman. Frowning, with Bea and the gossip-hungry milliner on her heels, Flavia quickly reached the main staircase in the lobby. Downstairs, she recognized Lev's mother-in-law. A shallow woman, with a large cleavage and a once beautiful face.

She was attacking the butler Gaston, who stood with his back straight, impassive. He seemed to be waiting for the storm to pass. Suddenly she remembered that this same woman had fired Bea behind Lev's back, to put someone else in her place. Now, given the attitude of her husband and his staff, this had not been a first.

- Who are you?

The peremptory question, pronounced in a loud and clear voice, immediately drew attention to her. Gaston seemed worried, while the mother-in-law frowned.

-Ah, that ugly face... You're the one your father gave in marriage to deceive the family, right?

Flavia did not like this tone. Slowly descending the stairs, she looked at this unpleasant woman with an implacable glance.

-I asked you who you were, ma'am. Not your opinion of me.

-I am Lev's mother. And you, you are a little impertinent.

Gaston opened his mouth to speak, but Flavia raised her hand, telling him to be silent.

- My husband's mother passed away many years ago. You are not his mother at all, madam...

-Therese of Clypeus. You'd better remember that.

-Oh, don't worry, I'll remember. Now tell me what makes you think you have the authority to fire my butler?

At the bottom of the stairs, graceful, she smiled coldly. Thérèse, smaller than her, raised her chin. How old was she? About forty, at most?

-This is my home.

- You are here at the Duke of Clypeus' house, madam. This is not your home.

-This man refused to obey me! exclaimed Therese, abruptly changing her strategy. He must be fired!

Flavia leaned her head to one side, without taking her eyes off her mother-in-law.

-To obey you? But why should he obey you?

-I am his superior! I am a noblewoman! The lady of Clypeus!

Ah... Here's the bottom line. Flavia had already seen this several times. With her own mother-in-law, whom Vera had just eaten.

- I think there is a misunderstanding, Therese. Here, you are nothing.

These words, pronounced in a soft voice, had the effect of a slap to the woman. But Flavia did not stop there.

-Also, let's get one thing straight. I am the Duchess of Clypeus, the wife of the Duke of Clypeus. You, you're just an impudent woman who thinks that her affiliation with the Duke's father allows her to do foolish things. So, in the future, I advise you to stay in your place, Therese of Clypeus.

A deathly silence fell over the hall. The butler was speechless, and Therese's eyes were about to pop out of her head.

-Ah, please announce yourself, before you come. From now on, the guards will have orders to turn you away if you come without being invited. As it is the case today, I will ask you to leave.

-I... I won't go!

Flavia turned her head towards the guards, on duty in front of the main door.

-Gentlemen. Get her out.

-What!? What!? Don't touch me!

She made a scandal until the gate of the fortress. There, the gate was slammed in her face, she and her carriage in the colors of the Clypeus.

The hands on the hips, Flavia observed the scene with boredom.

-Mmh... Gaston, Bea, do you think the Duke will be angry with me?

The butler and the housekeeper, standing beside him on the stoop, shook their heads. The guards returning from the gate were smiling broadly.

-I think the Duke will thank you most of all.

- That Therese is a real bitch who keeps coming back when the Duke is away, added Bea. As we are servants, she lays down the law, and he is forced to fire the people she has put in place as soon as he returns from a battle. It's exhausting for him not knowing what's waiting for him at home when he returns, every time.

Flavia nodded. That's how it seemed to her.

-It's up to me to make sure that his home remains a safe haven, then, she said. If I can take this burden off his mind, that will be good. Is there anything else I can do to help my husband?

The two servants looked at each other, before smiling at their Duchess.

-Do you know anything about domain management?