Veronica

  I finally made it off the Enterprise and out of the Mage Cathedral. Chaos had taken over, servants of the Princes rushed to unload their cargo, including the artifacts and supplies gathered during the expedition. At the same time, others were boarding the secondary transport. It was a storm of motion and shouting. But now, I was free of it.

  I took the quieter back roads, winding my way toward my family’s bakery. It sat on the far edge of the Merchant District, the less fashionable side. But it was home. The place I grew up.

  I stopped, as always, at Berky’s General Store on the corner. The door chimed with that familiar little ring, instantly warming me.

  “I’ll be right there…” a voice called from the back. My aunt’s voice. I’d know that voice anywhere.

  “No rush, Aunty,” I called out, grabbing a bag of sweets from the shelf. “It’s just me. Take your time.”

  “Ah, Veronica, my dear!” she said, stepping out of the storeroom, still wearing that smile that made the whole shop feel brighter. “Out of work early? That soldiering thing…”

  She never liked my being in the military. My uncle Ben had died in a campaign years earlier, and no one in my family had ever been thrilled about my career choice. I still got an earful every time I came home. I set a gold coin on the counter. What can I say? The military paid for my education, and now I have to repay that debt.

  “Big spender now, huh?” she said, eyeing it. “You know it’s hard to make change for that. Especially for a bag of sweets.”

  “Keep it,” I said, grinning. “I got promoted. And, I finally met someone.”

  “Oh no. Is he military? You know what I always say. They promise the world and vanish overnight.”

  Yeah, she’d told that story plenty of times, some sergeant who’d sweet-talked her and disappeared. David wasn’t like that. He wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Nope. Not military. You can count on that,” I said. Sort of true. He’d never joined the military… he just owned one.

  “Nice guy?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Got a name?”

  “David,” I said. “David Robertson. We got engaged today.”

  “Engaged?” she blinked. “Well, he must be something special.” She slipped the coin into her purse. “When do we get to meet this David of yours?”

  “This week. I promise. He’s at the castle right now. I need to go tell Mama.”

  She grinned, sharp as ever. Better than the secret police when it came to extracting information.

  Outside, the air smelled of fresh bread as I walked toward the bakery. Familiar faces passed by, people I’d known since I was a child. I waved, smiling. It felt good to be home.

  _____________________

  The front door creaked open, resisting as always. We really needed to replace it. The whole bakery could use some work. My brothers had a gift for baking, not fixing things. But the bread that came out of this little place was among the best in the capital.

  “Mama, I’m home!” I called, climbing the stairs to my bedroom, my sanctuary. My quiet place.

  I passed the small wall of family paintings, brushing my fingers over the frame of my academy portrait. Gods, I looked young there.

  The floors groaned in the same spots. The walls had the same soft, buttery tint, smudged with the fingerprints of a hundred family dinners. Even the chipped trim beneath the stairs, where Jake crashed a sled into the corner during winter, was still there, untouched. Somehow, the whole place had shrunk. Or maybe I’d just seen what the world that David can offer.

  My room still had the old quilt on the bed, faintly smelling of rosewater and parchment. The uniform I peeled off had become armor in more ways than one, not just in terms of physical weight, but also in the identity it held. For five years, it told the world what I was. It bore my insignia and rank, though I’d need a new one soon. I wondered what David’s colors were. Green, maybe? I am hoping for green.

  There was a knock, and Mama peeked in.

  “There’s my girl.” She stepped in and wrapped her arms around me, tighter than usual. “Missed you, sweetie.” She pulled back, giving me that squint mothers do when trying to determine if you’re sick, hiding something, or pregnant. “Still my little girl. Still too skinny.”

  “Mother, I’m within regulations,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Regulations don’t mean healthy. You barely have hips.”

  “They’re regulation hips. And someone special thinks I’m just right.”

  Mama’s eyebrows lifted like sails. “Oh? Special, is he? Is he into these markings that you have all over your body?” She said with that wide, mischievous smile. “What’s his name?”

  “David… David Robinston, Yes, he thinks these are special,” I said, cheeks already flushing.

  “David. Mmm. What does he do? What’s his class? I hope he’s got a strong one, maybe something magical? So, you can get rid of these markings…”

  The flood of questions came too fast.

  “Wait. Let me change first. I don’t want to get my uniform dirty. I keep telling you, these markings are my class. I’m going to have them all my life…”

  “Alright, alright. But one question, he’s not military, is he?”

  She gave me the look. The one that meant I expect an honest answer.

  “No. He’s not in the military.”

  “Okay,” she said, nodding. “We can’t wait for you to stop this military thing. It worries us that you’re fighting. Anyway, your father and brothers are out back on a rush order. Some loopy Earl’s wife has a thing for our rolls and wants them tonight.”

  “What’s her name?” I asked, curious.

  “Seraphina or something like that,” she said with a hint of disdain. I burst out laughing.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing… I just… know Seraphina.” I grinned. “I’ll be down in a minute.” She left, still confused.

  I slipped out of the rest of my uniform and folded it neatly. Standing in front of the old family mirror, I studied myself.

  Too skinny? No, I looked strong. Capable. My red markings curled down from my chest to my feet, vibrant and alive with power. But still… What does David see in me? He said I was special. Said all his wives were. “I have hips,” I told myself as I twisted my hips, showing them in the mirror.

  I slipped into my spare mage robe and finished packing my things. It didn’t take long. And this time, when I headed downstairs, I knew exactly what I was walking into.

  _____________________

  Downstairs, I found the family in the back, watching the ovens. The timer showed ten minutes remaining. The scent hit me strongly: warm crust, honey glaze, and that faint trail of smoke from the old back oven that always needed coaxing.

  I’d taken a little longer to get ready. I’d packed some clothes, my uniforms, and a few personal things. It was time. Time to move out. I wanted to live with David and his family now. I was finally okay with that. I wanted to find out what he saw as so special about me.

  Most of the girls I grew up with were married off before twenty. I was twenty-two and still living at home. I knew they wondered about that. Maybe even worried.

  “Hello,” I said, stepping in.

  “Veronica, my dear,” my father said from his flour-covered chair. Every time he sat down, the chair let off a puff of white. “Your mother tells me you’ve met someone?”

  “And that you know the noblewoman who ordered the rolls,” Jake piped in, head poking out from the pantry.

  “His name is David. I accepted his proposal this morning.”

  They all froze.

  “And yes, I know Seraphina. She’s a sweet person. She’s pregnant. Probably craving those rolls again.”

  That knocked them even further off balance.

  “What’s his class?” Mama asked. “I want to make sure he can support you.”

  “I’ll let him answer that,” I said. “But he doesn’t need money.”

  “He’s rich?” my youngest brother teased. “Sis caught a rich guy!”

  “I wouldn’t say rich, but… well-off,” I said, handing my mother a pouch. It wasn’t much, but it was something. A gesture. Mama opened the pouch, and her eyes widened. She poured the contents into her hand. Ten gleaming gold coins spilled across her palm.

  “Veronica,” she said, her voice tightening, “where did you get this?”

  “You wanted to know how I knew Seraphina? She gave them to me. And now I’m giving them to you. I don’t need them.”

  “Why would an Earl’s wife give you ten gold coins?”

  I could see her getting fired up. That same energy she had when I broke Bobby’s nose when we were growing up. (He deserved it.)

  “She only had gold on her at the time; she offered more, but I said no…”

  The front door chimed. Saved by the bell. Mama stomped out to the front. I know that she will let this go.

  “I’m here for Lady Robertson’s order?” said a familiar voice. Rachael. Of course. I walked up front with a grin.

  “Hello, Rachael. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “Lady Veronica,” she said formally, though with a smile. “I’m running an errand for Lady Seraphina. The cravings struck again.” She handed Mama a few copper coins.

  Mama raised an eyebrow. “Lady?”

  “Let’s add a few danishes,” I said, grabbing some sweets from the display.

  “Veronica, you can’t do that. She only paid for the rolls,” Mama objected, trying to grab them to put back.

  “She’ll enjoy them. If she doesn’t, my other sisters and I will.” I said, pushing her hand away.

  Mama stared. “Sisters? What are you talking about? What has this David done to you?”

  “Mama, he hasn’t done anything. And Seraphina is my sister-wife. David is my husband.” That shut her up. For the first time in my life, my mother had no words. My father came around the corner in a puff of flour. “Everything all right?”

  “She married an… Earl,” my mother said, barely able to form the words.

  My father’s smile could’ve split his face. He picked me up in a massive hug.

  “Are you pregnant? That’s why. Are you his sex slave?” Mama demanded. There it was. I’d bet myself she’d ask that before I left.

  “No. I’m not. Seraphina is the only one, for now. I mean, pregnant. Why wouldn’t someone want me for being me?” My father set me down, still beaming.

  “Us? How many wives does this man have?” Mama snapped.

  “Six,” Rachael answered calmly.

  “Six? Then you’re just number seven for this oversexed man!”

  “I’m his sixth,” I corrected. “Seraphina is his first. Princess Theresa is fifth.” That got them.

  “You met the Princess?” my youngest brother Jake asked. “What’s she like?”

  “Normal,” I said with a laugh. “She snores. Reads romance novels. Really, just… normal.” I found her a normal person, with a title thrust upon her. I picked up my suitcase.

  “I’ll bring David by later this week. I have to help a High Mage with learning some fire magic. We’re heading to Vaelthorn after all is wrapped up for a while.”

  “You’re leaving? We haven’t seen you in over a week, and now you’re off again?” my father asked.

  “It’s just a short trip,” I said. “David has some family matters to deal with. And we need to finalize Aria’s position as Royal Mage. I have to go, Seraphina’s cooking dinner tonight.”

  “An Earl’s wife cooking?” Mama said, incredulous. “What type of noble is this? Doesn’t this Earl have servants?”

  “He does. Rachael is Seraphina’s personal maid. Also…” Looking back at Mama. “Seraphina’s a master chef; she loves to cook.” I stepped toward the door, Rachael close behind. “In three days, it’s my day with David. I’ll bring him then. Love you.” I opened the door and stepped into the sunlight. I was born in that bakery. I knew every creak of the floor, every scent in the walls. But now I was going home.