I changed into fresh attire and instructed Hilfred, our head butler, to ensure absolutely no one disturbed or ambushed Zephyr during my absence.
I opted for a steed. I was utterly disgusted with striders; Zephyr was right—they served no purpose beyond flaunting the extreme indolence of the privileged.
I relished the ride despite the frigid air; it was nothing compared to the chill we faced in the sky. My clothing proudly announced my familial rank, and those I passed constantly saluted the house colors my horse even wore. White with gold... how utterly frivolous. What mind conceived this? On a battlefield, you couldn't conceal yourself even if you wished to. Malai's soldiers wore the same ridiculous, rainbow-hued livery.
I arrived at the Anola estate in mere minutes. It was virtually identical to our own. As generous and prominent donors to His Holiness, they embraced the same pointless opulence.
I halted and waited for the gate guard.
"Lord Em!? W-we w-weren't infor—"
"Is Yelena here?" I curtly cut him off.
The guards exchanged furtive glances, their eyes skittering away upon noticing my jacket. I checked my coat: on the right side was the mark of Ehlite. Two large, heavy circles intertwined, identical to everyone else's, save that mine was bright blue and conspicuously larger, marking me as a Child of God.
"Y-yes, Lord. Lady Yelena is... she's here." The man delivered his reply to his boots.
"Then open the gate already."
They instantly complied, and I rode inside—the final time ever.
"Lord Em... it's an honor as always." The head butler rushed out in a flurry and bowed low. "W-we weren't informed..."
"Stefan, go send for the Bishop and his scribes. If they aren't here in ten minutes, tell them I'll go visit them myself, and it will be painful. Do it now."
I'd changed my mind: the paperwork needed to be executed immediately. I dismounted with a decisive jump, leaving the horse to the Anola guards, and strode past the maids who had just materialized.
"Lord Em! We..."
"Tell your lady I will be in the feast hall."
"Yes, m'lord..."
This house... our house as well... By Ehlite, let it all burn.
The same lavish style, the same paintings, decorations, and furnishings. Even those drapes were identical, just in Anola's colors of red and black. Slaves were everywhere, genuflecting, cleaning already spotless surfaces.
Zephyr, believe me...
It still churned my stomach, but I was also ashamed that I'd considered this normal until we met. I saw how you conduct your life—cherishing others and caring for even the weakest or poorest of your people. There are those born into power, and those who deserve it.
Inside, I politely waved the slave girls away and took a seat, surveying the hall one last time.
The immense room was lined with long benches and matching wooden tables. The main table sat beneath the red-and-black banner of her forebears. In each corner, small seating areas with comfortable couches were positioned for noble ladies, should a feast languish too long.
It was in this very place that I had first told her what I discovered. Juan was alive! But, he was suffering greatly. I still recall her disbelieving eyes and her persistent words of admonition, driven by fear of my missteps and the consequences for her and her family.
I smiled, remembering what Seline told me: all will be well. She told me: We will rescue him. These words would have sounded ludicrously sanguine coming from anyone else. But she understood her son-in-law's power better than anyone. She saw the infinite potential within them. She was right.
Her words of encouragement were not empty sentiments delivered after hearing my half-formed plans. They stemmed from an unshakeable belief in Zephyr and me. 'Your powers are a gift, and they were given for this reason.'
Yes, my love. I believe you're right.
I heard Yelena's slow, almost languid footsteps long before she came into view.
"Carlos? Why didn't you send word?"
She approached with a subtle, half-smile but stopped after seeing me immobile in my seat.
"What's wrong? Why so cold?" She asked, her entire body language shifting.
Why so cold, she asks...
"Yelena. Sit down there. We need to talk."
She was clearly offended and already huffing but sat down opposite me. I was calm, looking into her eyes, never more certain that destiny itself had intervened when I met Zephyr that day.
"There is only one way to say this. I want a divorce... ah ah ah." She was poised to speak, but I silenced her. "Bishop Temmo will arrive soon. I called his scribes as well. It will be done."
Her expression showed neither surprise nor disappointment, just the same calculating coldness I had once mistaken for beauty.
"I see... Your parents know then?"
She leaned back after pouring some of the white wine she enjoyed.
"Enough of this. Whether they know or not is irrelevant."
"Hmm... I wonder how His Holiness will feel about this." She said between sips.
She was a viper through and through, but I couldn't resist.
"Hahaha..."
The first genuine emotion—annoyance—crept onto her face at my response to her veiled threat.
"What's so funny... husband?"
"I arrived after a day-long journey to be met with this empty threat." I shook my head, truly disappointed.
"So wh... w-what do you mean, a day-long journey?" She stumbled over her sentence.
"Zephyr came with me. I mean... he catapulted me is more accurate."
Watching the color drain from her face was a sight to savor. At least, she had never been an idiot.
"You comprehend the situation, don't you? Viego, your father, no one can save this marriage. Or, I wonder how they'd feel about falling from the stars as I incinerate the towers and their holy archers in a sea of flames."
Of course, we wouldn't actually do that, but sometimes the specter of a potential outcome is enough without ever performing the deed itself, provided the capability is believable.
She was defeated, even if she wanted to fight. I delivered one final, decisive push.
"But you know what? Go send for His Holiness. I'll wait." I said with a small smile.
"What!!?" she hissed the word like actual venom.
This time, I settled back comfortably.
"I wonder what he and his cronies would do upon seeing him... after witnessing his blessing. Let's see how your family's leverage possibly measures up against that boy's power."
She was furiously plotting an escape, and I could practically see her calculating the gold coins and favors they could offer. Nothing would be enough.
"Your family would nev—"
"My family just met him and, it's safe to say, fell under his spell after... five minutes, if that." I leaned forward, touching that cold skin one last time as if comforting her. "You know them as much as I do. My parents, Yelena, always smelled potential. Unlike yours, who perpetually rely on their ancestors' fading claims to fame."
There were hurried footsteps, and soon, old Bishop Temmo entered with half a dozen men carrying books and papers. I guess I didn't specify. Oh well.
"Bishop Temmo! Excellent timing."
I rose and shook the grey man's hand.
"Long time no see, L-lord Em. H-how can the Church be of service?" He asked nervously.
I looked back with my best evil smile at my soon-to-be ex-wife.
She closed her eyes and took some calming breaths before getting up and walking toward us.
"Good Bishop, unfortunately, we wish to obtain a divorce and require the papers and your seal."
Victorious at last.