Hey, Miss J!

Tomorrow, I’m going to hop fully back into penning for AO3 and FF.net.

However, I wanted to create a challenge for myself.

With all of the stuff with AI, I felt both frustrated and also defeated to an extent. AI is far faster than I could ever hope to be.

So… I decided to try to test this out.

Original story, split between Gemini and I.

Parts 1 & 2 of “A Nobleman’s Pen” were done by Gemini. While I provided prompts, I don’t like taking credit for what an AI did. I don’t mind character names. I usually must run to Google to get a name generator. And at times, I base personalities on people I know.

First, the prompts, with Gemini’s reply noted.  

Me: #1 In Canvas. Generate a long story in which a woman who is a servant is mistreated by her full brother who is a noble. Another noble who meets with her brother has documents that involve her, stating he’ll help her brother if he signs them. And her brother is so dismissive that he doesn’t read before he signs.

Gemini: I would be happy to create that story for you. It’s a classic setup for a tale of mistaken arrogance and quiet justice.

Here is the story in a markdown file.

That draft is ready for you! It follows the requirements perfectly. Let me know if you would like to dive deeper into Elara’s future plans with her new independence or perhaps explore Lord Kaelen’s motivations for helping her.

Me: #2 Okay. Her name is Nara.

Gemini: That’s a great name! I’ve updated the story, replacing every instance of “Elara” with “Nara.”

Here is the revised file:

Nara’s story is complete and updated! Let me know if you’d like to continue the story, perhaps seeing what Nara does next with her freedom.

Me: #3 Her brother’s name is Ashton Valerius.

Gemini: Of course. Naming the brother Ashton Valerius gives a nice, weighty sound to his title.

I have updated the story to reflect his full name, Lord Ashton Valerius Thorne, and used “Ashton Valerius” or “Ashton” throughout the narrative for continuity.

I’ve successfully updated the story to name the brother Lord Ashton Valerius Thorne. Let me know if you have any other changes or if you’d like to continue the narrative!

Me: #4 Title: “A Nobleman’s Pen”

Gemini: I can certainly update the title of the story for you! “A Nobleman’s Pen” fits the theme perfectly.

Here is the updated file with the new title:

The title of the story is now “A Nobleman’s Pen.” Let me know if you’d like to make any other changes!

Me: #5 Thorne lands = Valerius lands

Gemini: That’s right! The “Thorne lands” are the ancestral holdings controlled by Lord Ashton Valerius Thorne, so they are synonymous in the context of the story, as he is the master of that estate. The current file uses “Thorne lands” to reference the family legacy, which is held by Ashton Valerius.

Me: #6 No. Not Valerius thorne. Just Valerius.

Gemini: I understand. It sounds like you want the family name to be Valerius, not Thorne, which is a common convention in these types of stories.

I have updated the story. The brother is now Lord Ashton Valerius, and all references to the family and estate now reflect “Valerius” as the surname.

The story is now fully updated with “Valerius” as the family name.

Me: #7 Kaelen would have come himself and brought his men to get Nara out of there. Because when he was displeased with her, Ashton would beat and starve her. <.<

Gemini: This introduces a much-needed sense of urgency and turns Kaelen’s action into a direct rescue, making the climax more satisfying.

I have edited the document, incorporating the abuse (starvation and beating) as the motivation for Kaelen’s deep legal maneuvering, and changing the ending so that Kaelen returns immediately with men to escort Nara out, neutralizing Ashton’s ability to retaliate.

Here is the revised story:

The story now highlights the abuse and features Kaelen’s direct, necessary intervention to secure Nara’s safe exit.

Me: #8 After taking Nara in, Kaelen explained to her that he was about to come down on House Valerius with an iron fist, and he didn’t want her in the path of it. Then, he asked her if she wanted other clothes, and she initially refused. He had a woman he would later reveal was his sister… to come in and take Nara’s measurements. Then… they found out that Nara’s frame was more than a bit thin. As two of Kaelen’s other sisters moved to help Nara bathe, they found that she was covered in bruises and had an oozing wound on her left upper thigh.

Gemini: I understand. I will extend the story “A Nobleman’s Pen” to include Kaelen’s explanation of his actions, Nara’s initial refusal of new clothes, and the discovery of her severe injuries by Kaelen’s sisters.

Here is the updated Canvas document:

I’ve incorporated all of your requested details into the story, setting the stage for Kaelen’s promised retaliation against the Valerius house. Let me know if you’d like to continue the story, perhaps focusing on Nara’s recovery or Kaelen’s actions against her brother.

Me: #9 Note, Seraphina wouldn’t have called him “brother,” at least not at first. <.<

Gemini: That’s an excellent point regarding the level of formality and the presence of Lady Nara. Seraphina would certainly be more proper, addressing Kaelen as the Lord of the household rather than using the familiar “Brother” immediately in front of a noble visitor.

I’ve revised that line in the story for a more refined tone.

I’ve successfully updated the dialogue to remove the informal address between Seraphina and Kaelen, ensuring the scene maintains the appropriate noble formality.

Me: #10 When Nara was undressed, they would have almost been able to see her ribs too. Kaelen would explain that he’d learned of the younger daughter of House Valerius only recently. And… he would ask Seraphina why she thought Nara was a servant. Seraphina would explain she had no clue, but would find out. Later. For now, they needed to help Nara recover.

Gemini: I’d be happy to incorporate those powerful details into the story, highlighting the severity of the mistreatment and adding a layer of mystery around Nara’s status.

Here is the updated story:

The narrative is now updated to include the visual evidence of Nara’s starvation and the immediate conversation between Kaelen and Seraphina about her mysterious status, emphasizing that her immediate medical needs come first.

Me: #11 “would have almost” been able to see her ribs. So she was very thin, but they couldn’t completely see her ribs.

Gemini: That makes perfect sense. I’ll make a subtle adjustment to that description to reflect that she is severely malnourished, but her ribs are sharply defined rather than “starkly apparent,” keeping the description true to your request.

Here is the updated file:

The description has been updated to reflect that Nara’s ribs were “sharply defined” beneath her skin, showing severe thinness without being completely skeletal.

Me: #12 Kaelen would have moved away from Nara with Seraphina to ask his questions. He also would have spoken quietly with her.

Gemini: I’d be happy to adjust that scene for privacy and dramatic effect. Kaelen is meticulous, and moving away to speak quietly about sensitive legal and familial matters is perfectly in character for him.

I have updated the scene so Kaelen discreetly moves aside with Seraphina before discussing Nara’s status and the nature of the rumors.

The scene is now updated: Kaelen steps aside and lowers his voice to discuss the seriousness of the situation and the mystery of Nara’s status with Seraphina.

Me: #13 Amaris and Lyra gently supported and fed Nara a light broth. Tears leaked from Nara’s eyes, as she was so unused to kindness. She murmured her surprise at how bright it was ‘outside,’ which confused the sisters as they were inside. The healer came within the house and informed them that Nara was battling a nasty infection… had been for at least a week. Numbing the frail young woman, the healer carefully cut way the infected flesh, carefully flushing the area with clean water after eat cut until only pink skin was visible. However, the infection wasn’t ‘cut’ away. It required treatment from within and the healer gave Nara an ointment to use daily. Along with a tincture of herbs to ingest twice daily. The bucket full of pus and diseased flesh was taken outside to be disposed of.

Gemini: This is a significant and powerful scene showing the shift from oppression to care. I have integrated these details into the narrative, detailing the gentle feeding, Nara’s emotional reaction, the confusion over the “brightness,” and the immediate, painful medical treatment she receives.

Here is the updated story:

The story is now extended, highlighting the immediate medical crisis and the sisters’ gentle efforts to care for Nara, setting the stage for her recovery.

Me: #14 Let’s see Ashwood Manor that night, how Ashton is reacting to what he sees as a clever deception. He is drunk and angrily ranting to his butler. His wife has avoided him ever since Nara left. The evidence of Ashton’s violence in reaction to what happened was visible in the room around him.

Gemini: I have continued the story, taking the narrative back to Ashwood Manor the night Nara left. The new section shows Ashton Valerius’s drunken, impotent rage and the consequences of his violence, including his wife’s understandable avoidance.

Here is the updated file:

The story has been extended to show Ashton’s destructive reaction at Ashwood Manor that evening.

Me: # 15 Let’s get a document for part 2.

Two Days Later.

While Ashton had been a horrible sibling, his accountant had been incredibly accurate and thorough. So the accounts book of Nara’s finances was sitting on Kaelen’s desk. Though, he wasn’t as focused on it. 

He’d placed a man on the inside of Ashwood Manor who was able to learn from the staff that Nara’s parents had died when she was young. There had been suspicion about their deaths, especially when the details of their “will” came to light. 

No one had any way of knowing the truth, but many suspected that Ashton had killed his parents and forged their will. 

They also reported that his wife, Sylvia Valerius, was heartless and cruel. She enjoyed mocking Nara and over time had made the young woman believe she was to blame for her parents’ deaths. 

Seraphina applies the healing ointment to Nara while Amaris and Lyra worked. The three sisters bathed, then treated and dressed Nara. Lyra voiced her shock over how thin Nara was, tears trickling down her cheeks. 

Gemini: I can certainly draft the second part of the story, focusing on Kaelen’s investigation into House Valerius and the continued tender care Nara receives from his sisters.

I will create a new file titled “A Nobleman’s Pen – Part 2” to continue the narrative.

I’ve generated the document for Part 2, incorporating Kaelen’s investigation revealing Ashton’s suspected patricide and Sylvia’s emotional abuse, alongside the tender scene where Lyra’s shock at Nara’s emaciation breaks through her composure. Let me know what you would like to happen next!

–!–

So… If you waded through all of that, here’s part 1 and 2 of “The Nobleman’s Pen,” by Gemini.

Part 3 and later parts will be by me.

I’m not hyper fearful of sharing this. I’m actually excited to see what the difference will be! I took a few notes of the characters and locations, so I’ll hopefully have up “Part 3” by myself shortly.

—

Ashwood Manor was a grand, sprawling shadow against the dull autumn sky, its ancient stone walls reflecting the tarnished nobility of its current master, Lord Ashton Valerius. Inside, the manor was cold, not just from the drafts that whistled through the high corridors, but from the deliberate chill Ashton Valerius cast over all who served him—especially his own flesh-and-blood sister, Nara.

Nara, who shared the same sharp green eyes and high cheekbones as Ashton Valerius, wore the rough grey linen of a scullery maid, her hands perpetually chapped from lye soap and toil. Her constant, weary thinness and the shadows beneath her eyes were testament to the starvation and occasional, brutal beatings Ashton inflicted when his temper flared or his debts mounted. She was a servant in the house where she had been born, a cruel twist of fate finalized when their parents, in their final will, had named Ashton Valerius the sole inheritor of the entailed estate and its immediate assets, leaving Nara’s small inheritance tied up in an obscure, conditional trust. Ashton Valerius, using his legal power and sheer spite, kept her bound by debt and circumstance, ensuring she remained a daily reminder of his superior status.

This morning, Nara was scrubbing the black-and-white tiled floor of the main hallway. Her knees ached, and the stench of polish stung her nostrils.

“Move, dirt,” Ashton snapped, stepping over her without a glance as he adjusted the velvet lapel of his deep emerald coat. “Do not let your shadow fall upon the rug before my guest arrives.”

Nara flinched, pulling her bucket out of the path of his polished leather boots. Ashton paused at the entrance, surveying the spotless hall as if challenging it to reveal a speck of dust. He did not look down, and thus did not see the deep purple bruise fading beneath the cuff of Nara’s sleeve. He only saw a necessary fixture—a nameless, inconvenient servant.

Moments later, a carriage rattled up the gravel path, and Lord Kaelen of the neighboring barony was announced. Kaelen was known to be sharp, quiet, and possessed of a formidable, almost academic grasp of legal minutiae and land rights. He was here to secure a mutual agreement Ashton Valerius desperately needed, as the Valerius lands were mortgaged heavily due to his extravagant, idle lifestyle.

The two nobles retired to the study, a room lined with books Ashton Valerius never read. Nara, having finished the floor, was assigned the task of keeping the fire stoked in the study, a silent shadow near the hearth.

“The terms are all there, Ashton,” Kaelen said smoothly, tapping a thick sheaf of parchment tied with a heavy blue ribbon. The documents detailed the sale of a remote tract of Valerius land, which Kaelen needed to connect his holdings, and in return, Kaelen would forgive the most pressing of Ashton Valerius’s debts.

“Excellent, excellent,” Ashton yawned, gesturing toward the papers. “Just point out where I scrawl my name. I’ve no patience for tedious legal prose.”

Kaelen glanced briefly at Nara by the hearth. The way she held her hands—hidden deep within the voluminous sleeves of her gown—and the defensive posture of her shoulders told him all he needed to confirm the rumors of her treatment.

“Of course. Everything is standard. Barring one rather unique appendix, which I drafted myself to manage future complications,” Kaelen said, his voice measured.

Ashton frowned slightly. “Appendix? Why the extra bulk?”

“A mere formality concerning certain subsidiary beneficiaries of the larger land grant,” Kaelen explained, his voice even and calm. “It ensures that any minor, lingering claims relating to the original Valerius estate deed are cleanly severed from this new tract. It is to protect you from future headaches, Ashton. My lawyers insisted.”

Ashton scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. “The only lingering claim in this house is the mildew in the cellar. Signatures, Kaelen. I have a dinner engagement.”

Kaelen didn’t argue. He simply produced a heavy silver fountain pen, indicated two spots on the main agreement, and then—critically—a third spot near the bottom of the densely worded appendix.

Ashton scribbled his signature on the first two lines, his large script hasty and impatient. He paused at the third spot, marked clearly beneath a paragraph titled, “Affirmation of Inherited Assets and Legal Status,” and without reading a single line of the surrounding text, he signed that, too.

“There,” Ashton declared, leaning back in his chair. “Done. Now, the debt is settled.”

“Indeed,” Kaelen replied, gathering the signed documents and securing them in his briefcase. He did not linger.

Nara watched him leave, her heart sinking, until she saw Kaelen turn back at the doorway, giving her a single, sharp nod that promised action.

The next morning, the silence of Ashwood Manor was shattered not by a post rider, but by the heavy crunch of boots on the gravel path. Lord Kaelen had returned, accompanied by three large, uniformed men carrying the seal of his barony—not just guards, but legal enforcers.

Ashton, still nursing a late morning brandy, swaggered into the great hall to confront them. “Kaelen, what is the meaning of this intrusion?”

Kaelen ignored him, stepping past and holding up a formally addressed document, its certification seals glistening in the morning light. “Lord Ashton Valerius. This document is a legal declaration, certified by your own signature from yesterday. It officially transfers the ‘conditional interest’ of the late Valerius parents’ trust fund to the immediate and unconditional control of the named beneficiary, Nara Valerius, including a formal declaration of independent, debt-free status within the bounds of the Valerius legacy.”

Ashton’s eyes fixed on his signature at the bottom, and the color drained from his face as the realization hit him. The Trojan horse clause.

“You treacherous viper! You tricked me!” Ashton roared, moving to strike the documents from Kaelen’s hand.

Kaelen didn’t flinch. “I presented you with terms you needed to read, Ashton. Your negligence is not my fault. Nara Valerius is now legally independent. She leaves today.”

Nara stepped out from the shadows near the stairs, already wearing the simplest of her few dresses, a small, worn bag at her side. She looked at her brother, but there was no fear, only vast, exhausted pity.

Ashton turned on her, his face purple with murderous rage. “You will not leave this house! I forbid it! I am your master!”

But Kaelen’s men moved instantly, blocking Ashton’s path.

“You are her brother, not her master,” Kaelen stated coldly. “The document you signed yesterday proves that. Any attempt to obstruct her departure will be treated as abduction and assault on a legally independent ward of this barony. You have solved your debt, Ashton, but you have lost your privilege to inflict harm.”

Nara looked directly at Ashton, her eyes steady for the last time. “It means I am free.”

She walked toward the main doors. Ashton, held back by the immovable presence of Kaelen’s guards, could only watch, powerless. That afternoon, Nara walked out of Ashwood Manor through the main gates, carrying a small, neat bundle and the knowledge that her brother’s contempt and carelessness had been the ultimate instrument of her safe deliverance.

Ashton Valerius was left alone in the great hall, surrounded by his remaining wealth, the weight of his unread signature now heavier than any chain he had ever placed on her.

Nara reached the main doors, and Kaelen escorted her swiftly to a waiting carriage, a private, well-appointed coach shielded by his uniformed guards. She sat on the soft velvet seat, a material she hadn’t touched in years, feeling the motion beneath her, the first truly free motion of her life.

As the carriage sped away, the sight of Ashwood Manor receding, Kaelen finally spoke, his measured calm replaced by a cold, purposeful intensity.

“Nara,” he said, leaning forward. “I must be clear about what happens next. That contract secured your personal liberty, but it was merely a preliminary move. I am about to come down on House Valerius with an iron fist. I will legally strip Ashton of everything he cannot immediately pay for. I didn’t want you, the sole innocent party, to be in the path of that destruction. You are now protected by the seal of my Barony, but that protection must begin with comfort. Do you need anything? Clothes, specifically? I have arranged for proper garments to be made.”

Nara looked down at her stained grey linen, suddenly conscious of its dirt and thinness. “Thank you, Lord Kaelen, but… no,” she murmured, her refusal ingrained, a reflex born of years of denying herself even the slightest comfort. “These will suffice for now. I don’t need silks or finery.”

Kaelen accepted her refusal with a simple nod. When they arrived at his sprawling, bright home, the Barony of Silverstream, the atmosphere was vastly different—warm, busy, and focused.

He led her to a private suite of rooms and immediately summoned his eldest sister, Lady Seraphina. Seraphina was warm and direct, possessing Kaelen’s sharp eyes but tempered by maternal kindness.

“Seraphina, this is Lady Nara Valerius,” Kaelen introduced them. “Nara, this is Seraphina, who manages the household. Nara is insisting on keeping her current clothing, but I need a wardrobe prepared. Please take her measurements. I need to know the scale of the task.”

Seraphina smiled gently at Nara. As she took the first measurement, running a soft tape measure around Nara’s waist, her brow furrowed. “I suspect this will be less a task of tailoring and more a task of feeding. She is… more than a bit thin, Kaelen. We’ll start with thick, soft nightgowns while she gains some weight.”

Kaelen’s two other sisters, Lady Amaris and Lady Lyra, arrived soon after, bringing fresh linens and a large copper tub filled with steaming, fragrant water. Nara, overwhelmed by the attention, could barely protest as they gently insisted on helping her bathe. The servants’ baths at Ashwood were quick, cold, and private; this was an act of tender care.

As Nara carefully shed the rough linen, the extent of her deprivation became visible. Her frame was painfully slight, and the shallow hollows between her ribs were sharply defined beneath her pale, taut skin.

As Amaris carefully scrubbed the soap from Nara’s back, her breath hitched. “Lyra, call Kaelen.”

Nara stiffened, trying instinctively to cover her body.

Lyra’s eyes widened as she looked at Nara’s torso and limbs. The evidence of Ashton’s cruelty was extensive. Old, faded yellow and green bruises crisscrossed her ribs and back. But worst of all was a fresh injury on her left upper thigh—a deep, ugly bruise surrounding an oozing wound, clearly struck days earlier.

Kaelen rushed in, his legal armor momentarily cracking to reveal true shock and anger when he saw the extent of the damage. Seraphina, who had followed him, knelt beside the tub.

“I only had suspicion before, Nara,” Kaelen said, his voice low and tight with suppressed fury. He exchanged a look with Seraphina that spoke volumes of cold, determined vengeance. “Now I have proof. This changes everything. We must call the physician immediately.”

Kaelen stood and, motioning for Seraphina to join him by the doorway, spoke in a hushed, intense tone. “Seraphina, I had only recently discovered the existence of a younger daughter of the House Valerius, hence my move to secure this legal trap. Why did you believe Lady Nara was merely a servant, as the rumors suggested? I only knew she was a contingent beneficiary.”

Seraphina spoke quietly, her expression grave as she absorbed the gravity of the injuries and Kaelen’s question. “My Lord, I had no clue as to her rank, only that she was listed as the sole female heir. We must ascertain the full truth of her position later, but for now, the priority is clear: she needs immediate recovery. These wounds require a healer, not an interrogation.”

Kaelen nodded sharply, accepting the necessary delay. Seraphina returned to Nara and wrapped her tenderly in a large, warm sheet, guiding her out of the tub. “The clothes can wait, Nara. Rest is first. Then food. Then healing. Ashton Valerius will pay for every mark he left on you, I promise you that.”

The physician, a woman named Doctor Eliana, arrived within the hour, a serious, efficient presence. While Kaelen was consulting with the physician, Amaris and Lyra returned to Nara. They settled her carefully onto a cot and brought a bowl of light, warm broth.

They gently lifted the spoon to her lips. The taste of salt and nourishment, combined with the pure, unexpected kindness of the action, was too much. Tears leaked silently from the corners of Nara’s eyes, streaming onto the pillow. She had forgotten what it felt like to be treated as a person worthy of such gentle effort.

“Oh, sweet girl,” Lyra murmured, wiping the tears away with a corner of the sheet.

Nara tried to speak, her voice a reedy whisper. “It is so bright here… outside.”

Amaris exchanged a puzzled look with Lyra. “We are inside, Lady Nara. The room has large windows, but the curtains are drawn for your comfort.”

“No, outside,” Nara insisted, lifting a hand weakly toward the ceiling. “The air is so clear. At Ashwood, it was always… thick.”

The sisters exchanged a look of deeper concern, understanding that she wasn’t speaking of light or air, but the oppressive atmosphere of her brother’s cruelty.

Doctor Eliana returned, her face grim after examining the wound on Nara’s thigh. She confirmed their fears: “This young woman is battling a nasty infection, My Lord. It has been festering for at least a week, worsened by her severe malnutrition.”

Kaelen clenched his jaw. “Treat it, Doctor. Whatever is necessary.”

Eliana immediately set to work. She applied a powerful, cold poultice to numb the area as much as possible, then carefully used a small, sharp scalpel to excise the diseased tissue. Nara tensed, but the numbness was effective. The only sound was the careful snip-snip of the blade and the gentle stream of clean, sterile water Lyra poured continuously over the area after each cut. Eliana continued until the angry, gray-yellow pus and infected tissue were gone, and only pink, healthy skin remained visible beneath the cut edges.

“That removes the worst of it,” the physician stated, carefully collecting the bucket of excised flesh and pus. “But the infection is rooted within her system. Cutting is not enough. This requires internal treatment.” She instructed Seraphina on the regimen: a thick, fragrant ointment to be applied daily to the thigh, and a powerful tincture of dark herbs to be ingested twice daily to fight the systemic infection. The bucket full of pus and diseased flesh was taken outside to be disposed of. “She must eat, and she must rest. Completely.”

That same evening, Ashwood Manor felt less like a noble house and more like a crumbling tomb echoing with impotent rage. Lord Ashton Valerius was not in the great hall where he usually held court. Instead, he was confined to his private study, which now bore the visible scars of his afternoon fury. A porcelain vase lay shattered across the mahogany desk, its fragments glistening like ice. A heavy leather chair had been violently overturned, and an inkwell had been flung, leaving a dark, permanent stain on the expensive wallpaper.

Ashton was deeply, belligerently drunk. He paced the room, clutching a crystal decanter of fiery amber spirits, sloshing liquid over the neck as he gesticulated wildly toward his stoic, elderly butler, Mr. Alistair.

“A brilliant coup! A masterpiece of legal larceny!” Ashton spat, slamming the decanter onto the desk, narrowly missing the edge. “He didn’t even need the damned tract! That devil, Kaelen! He used me as a means to an end! He played the savior of some filthy, forgotten housemaid!”

Mr. Alistair, who had served the Valerius family for forty years, stood rigid near the door, his face a mask of trained neutrality. He was accustomed to Ashton’s drunken rages, but the violence this time had been unusual and frighteningly sustained.

“He secured the Valerius debt, My Lord,” Alistair reminded him in a flat tone, attempting to steer the conversation back to the positive side of the exchange.

“Debt! Do you think I care for coin when my authority is challenged?” Ashton bellowed, kicking the overturned chair. “The stain! The stain on the family name! To have Kaelen parade his men through my hall, treating my chattel as a sovereign queen! And for what? For a line of meaningless legal filler I barely glanced at!” He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair.

He took a long, desperate pull from the decanter. “Where is my wife? Lady Valerius is required here! I demand her comfort!”

“Lady Valerius retired to her private wing immediately after dinner, My Lord,” Alistair replied, his voice devoid of sympathy. “She indicated she had a migraine and would not be disturbed.”

Ashton scoffed, throwing the decanter across the room where it struck the marble hearth with a sharp, sickening crack. “Migraine! She is a coward, Alistair! She fears the mess! She fears the truth of what I had to do to maintain this estate! And now, thanks to that viper Kaelen, the estate is intact, but the tools of my control are gone!”

He staggered toward the ruined desk, pointing a trembling finger at the spot where Kaelen had sat. “He knew! He must have known the filthy little wretch was nursing some injury! He wanted the ammunition! The legal grounds! He has positioned himself to bleed us dry, Alistair, and all with my own signature!” His voice dissolved into a thick, choking mixture of alcohol and despair. Ashton Valerius sank into his intact armchair, weeping tears of pure, furious humiliation, surrounded by the physical wreckage of his pride.

Part 2

Two Days Later

Two days had passed at the Barony of Silverstream, days marked by quiet recovery for Nara and furious, focused activity for Lord Kaelen. On his heavy oak desk sat the meticulous accounts book of Nara’s personal trust—a ledger prepared with surprising thoroughness by Ashton Valerius’s own accountant, a small testament to the man’s professionalism despite his master’s degeneracy. Yet, Kaelen was not focused on the columns of figures, which merely confirmed Nara’s immediate solvency; he was focused on the deeper, darker currents of the Valerius history.

He had placed a reliable man on the inside of Ashwood Manor, a trusted agent who blended easily with the distressed staff. The reports that had reached Kaelen were grim, but illuminating. The staff confirmed that Nara’s parents, the previous Lord and Lady Valerius, had died suddenly when Nara was very young. There had always been hushed suspicions about the nature of their deaths, whispers that grew louder when the details of their hastily executed “will” came to light, which unjustly favored Ashton. No one had concrete proof, but many of the long-serving household members suspected the worst: that Ashton had killed his parents and had their will forged to assume immediate control of the estate and its assets, overriding the more balanced original family settlements.

The staff also provided harrowing details about Ashton’s wife, Lady Sylvia Valerius. Lady Sylvia was described as heartless and cruel, finding perverse pleasure in mocking Nara. Over time, she had meticulously worked to make the young woman believe she was to blame for her parents’ mysterious deaths, an emotional cruelty that kept Nara psychologically chained to the house even more effectively than Ashton’s brute force.

Meanwhile, in the private suite, the three sisters continued their tireless work. Seraphina, kneeling beside the cot, gently applied the thick, fragrant healing ointment to the oozing wound on Nara’s thigh. Amaris and Lyra worked together, moving with practiced ease to bathe and redress the frail young woman. Nara, resting under the persistent haze of the healing tinctures, offered little resistance, too weakened and too stunned by the relentless kindness to protest.

As they helped Nara into a fresh, thick cotton nightgown—the first garment not made of rough, scraping linen she had worn in years—Lyra ran her hands lightly over Nara’s narrow back. Despite the two days of steady broth and nourishment, the delicate bones beneath the skin were still alarmingly prominent.

A wave of shock overcame Lyra, and tears welled up and began to trickle down her cheeks. She carefully smoothed the nightgown over Nara’s shoulders and stepped back, unable to hide her distress.

“Seraphina, look at her,” Lyra choked out, her voice tight with raw emotion. “She is just bones. How could he? How could a brother do this to his own sister? He starved her, Seraphina. He truly starved her.”

Seraphina moved quickly to comfort her sister, placing a steady hand on Lyra’s shoulder, all the while keeping her focus on securing the bandage over Nara’s injury.

“He is a monster, Lyra,” Seraphina confirmed quietly. “But we must be strong for her. We cry later. For now, we heal her. Go fetch another cup of that broth, and let us focus on getting some warmth into those bones.”

Amaris, seeing Lyra’s distress, silently went to adjust the fire, ensuring the room remained cozy, while the three sisters silently pledged themselves anew to the task of bringing Nara back from the edge of dissolution.

To Be Continued Soon…

By only Juliette Lyst

~J. Lyst