When Ashen walked out of the Bleeding Coin, the moon was already hanging high in the black sky, and the pub was getting rowdy as its busy hours clawed their way into full swing.
Through the windows behind him, he could make out the blurred shapes of drunkards burying their fear with booze and soldiers drowning themselves in flesh and the illusion of warmth.
He wasn't keen on joining them.
So he just walked back to his rented place, boots scuffing against cobblestone that had seen better decades. The place should still be his—he'd paid the last three months in advance—but with him being branded a criminal and thrown into the Pit, you never knew. Landlords had a funny way of developing convenient amnesia when the law came knocking.
At least he hoped his stuff wasn't thrown away, or sold… or burned.
When he reached the apartment building, he found it almost the same from the outside, aside from the overgrown grass choking the roadside and a few more cracks spider-webbing up the walls.
Tok—
He opened the door, and the lock yielded without protest.
That meant the place was still his.
'Good. This spares me the headache of looking for a place to stay when it's this crowded.'
Relief lasted about three seconds.
His senses picked up another presence in his home before he'd even crossed the threshold.
Walking cautiously toward the source, each footstep quieter than the last, he found a woman lounging on his worn-out sofa as if she owned it.
She wore a tight office lady attire with brown pantyhose and a white shirt tucked in. Her high heels lay discarded by the sofa's edge, while her legs neatly folded underneath her.
Nestled between the fingers of her two hands was a black teacup. The fragrance hit him before anything else. Veyra leaves. Of course, she'd found his stash.
She looked at him with an almost innocent gaze, lapis eyes reflecting the dim lamplight, and then took a slow, deliberate sip from the cup before fixing a strand of stray pink hair behind her ear. The gesture was so natural that for a moment Ashen forgot he was supposed to be surprised.
"Welcome back." She finally uttered, voice smooth.
Ashen blinked twice and answered on reflex, "Thanks… I'm back."
The words left his mouth before his brain caught up. He shook his head, realizing he'd been swept up in her pace from how smoothly she'd said it, like they were a married couple and this was just another evening.
"No… how did you even get here in the first place? I thought this was my place?"
She nodded, utterly unbothered by the accusation lurking beneath his question. "It's simple. I used the personality that thinks she's your girlfriend to talk to the owner. He gave me the spare keys when I convinced him that I was your lover."
Of course she did.
"...And you did that…why?" Ashen massaged the spot between his eyebrows as he plopped onto the sofa beside her. It was the only seat available, and he wasn't planning to stay standing in his own house. The cushion wheezed under his additional weight.
"Since you went and got yourself arrested in that ridiculous fashion, I figured I'd use the free space." She took another sip, maddeningly calm. "I also kept the interior clean and talked to the owner not to change the lock when he heard that his tenant had changed residence to the Pit…"
Her gaze pressed against him as she side-eyed him, and Ashen understood that it was his turn to explain.
"Uhh… about that…" Ashen didn't know how to explain it without revealing too much. The words tangled in his throat. "Ah… I'm sorry."
Eventually, he decided to apologize first, since no matter what, it was due to him that Lucia had to endure an interrogation she had nothing to do with, and had to deal with the stress of her "investment"—as she so charmingly called him—landing himself in the most feared prison on the continent.
"Ashen, you must know how I operate by now…" Lucia didn't seem to acknowledge his apology outwardly, though inwardly, she quite liked how he easily admitted fault without dodging accountability. That trait was shared by his father, she'd noticed, when she'd acted as his girlfriend to fool them.
"Ah yes, what was it again…?" Ashen's lips twitched into something resembling a smile. "An apology is useless aside from soothing your own ego, so I should just tell you the reason… right?"
"How admirable. You remembered." Her tone stayed even, but her eyes sparkled in approval, and maybe a bit of amusement. "Now out with it. I especially recall how I warned you of the countless eyes on Alice Sinclair that day, and not even an hour later, you decide to… kidnap her?"
The last two words came out sharp. Even someone as stoic as Lucia couldn't fully suppress the irritation bleeding into her voice. Her fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around the teacup.
Ashen palmed his face, embarrassment crawling up his neck. Then he decided to simplify the matter by stating the facts. "Long story short, I have an innate skill that could activate anytime at random in the vicinity of people who share some sort of bond with me… or perhaps more accurately… destiny."
"...And I'm guessing Alice has some destiny with you…" Lucia's voice dropped half an octave. "And this skill activated and was the reason for your two-week disappearance?"
"You got it." He nodded.
"How convenient." She remarked dryly.
"Well, that's how it is…" Ashen shrugged, watching her profile as she stared at the dregs of her tea. "It could even trigger with you, so don't take it lightly…"
That got her attention.
"Really now?" Lucia fell into thought, expression shifting into something more thoughtful. After a moment, she asked, "Since I can be affected by this, don't I have any right to know the effects?"
Ashen fell silent. His gaze drifted to the ceiling, weighing options. Then he decided to reveal a bit more. She was kind of right, and she'd already proved herself tight-lipped once.
"You can think of it as some kind of trial ground. When you pass the trial, you get rewarded."
"Sounds simple enough." She nodded and didn't push for more, which Ashen appreciated more than he'd say aloud.
"By the way…" He hesitated, then pushed forward. "The commander said that you refused to reveal anything about me when she questioned you… Are you alright?"
He didn't know if there were consequences for that, hence his worry. Interrogations in the Wrath Domain weren't exactly known for their gentleness.
"...Our Sin Lord is surprisingly gentle toward her people, so I haven't suffered." Lucia shook her head, pink hair catching the lamplight. "Nothing I couldn't handle."
"...In any case, I wanted to thank you for that."
"We're bound by a contract, remember?" Her voice stayed professional, "You have nothing to thank me for."
"A contract you chose to sign," Ashen countered, leaning back against the protesting cushions, "so a thank you isn't unwarranted. Or what? Are you shy?"
The teasing lilt in his voice was unmistakable.
"Shut up." She hissed, but the smirk stayed on his lips even as silence settled between them.
The moment stretched, comfortable in its own strange way. Outside, the distant sounds of the chaos filtered through cracked windows. Inside, the air felt warmer somehow, despite the chill that had seeped into the walls.
"...I've heard of your accomplishments in the reserve army." Lucia finally said, breaking the quiet.
"Oh yeah?" Ashen raised an eyebrow and, with the audacity of a man completely comfortable in his own skin, took her unfinished cup and helped himself to a sip. The Veyra hit his modified taste buds like ambrosia—bitter to anyone else, divine to the two of them. "What'd you hear?"
"Enough." She watched him drink from her cup without protest, something unreadable flickering across her features.
"...The War Hero project is coming along well, I'd say, so any thoughts?" Ashen continued.
Lucia's expression hardened as she waited for him to lower the cup slowly.
"Yes." Her voice came out flat, "We should axe the 'project'."