Lucien was getting used to his role as lord Adrian's heir. He still didn't care for any responsibility, but the other things that came with it made it worth his while. The prestige was even better than the comfort, the respect he was due every time he went to the marketplace and the admiration he received from some people.
Especially when those people were charming and beautiful, like Elodie.
He didn't know much about her background and he didn't really care. All he cared was that she was far too beautiful for a simple village girl, with clear ivory skin and golden hair worthy of a princess. She was too fine for hard work, but she liked stories of romance, dancing and all kinds of fun.

And Lucien was falling in love, just like it was often told in those stories. Time spent with Elodie always passed in a single blink of an eye while time without her seemed grey and empty. And when they kissed for the first time it was better than anything Lucien had tasted before and he couldn't get enough.
He couldn't imagine ever doing anything else than being with her, kissing her, enjoying this feeling.

His mother had different plans, though.
Delia had never been a great scholar herself, but she wanted the best for her children and university had always been a part of that in her mind. Now both her husband and one of her boys were dead, but she was still determined to ensure Lucien would have the best chance in life she could ensure. Even though the two funerals had swallowed most of the wealth she had counted on and she would have to work her hands raw to afford the university fee.

Lucien himself didn't really care either way, but he wasn't one to waste energy arguing. He paid only half attention to his mother's plans and expected smooth sailing throughout, but he only had to arrive to the university to see not everything would be perfect.
To begin with, he was poor once again, put in the smallest room with only simple furnishings and expected to make do. After getting used to comfort and respect, being a nobody again was hard and without riches, there was only one other way to gain any status. Hard work.

He chose his subjects by random chance and good-sounding names rather than any thought-out plan, but he started them all with the ambition to excel. To show everyone that as a noble's son he truly belonged among all the spoilt rich boys, to gain respect and admiration.
But in time the amount of required work only grew and his motivation just wasn't strong enough to keep him interested. He tried to work, he really did, but he already envied the rich boys who spent their days just having fun and their nights in bars.

Delia ended up alone in her new mansion, happy for her son but feeling more and more lonely. She even invited her brother and his pregnant wife to live with her, but Katharyn insisted on not wanting to impose on her.
They did visit frequently, so there was at least that.

Elena's life quieted down after the boys were both attending school, but otherwise not much changed. Malcolm was still working as hard as he could. The money was fine, but the big success he was expecting had still not come. Even then, life was good.
Maybe even too good to last.
She had been preparing lunch, like always, tired as usual and maybe just a little bit distracted. She had been daydreaming about the adventures she had planned to have, a career of a knight just to spite her brother, and of the grand house Malcolm was still planning to build for their family. She had been thinking about how different she had expected her life to be, how much better than the mundane progression of days, and completely forgot that it could always be much worse.
Until her simple cooking fire got completely out of control.

They fought, both her and Malcolm, fought like the knights they were supposed to be, but it might have already been too late. The fire was spreading fast and the old wooden house had no real protection.
It just burned all around them and when the stubborn pair finally thought of giving up and saving themselves, they were trapped beyond a wall of flames.
Elena's last thought was thanks to the Watcher that the boys were safely at school, far away from harm.

When the boys returned, the fire was still raging, but there was nothing to save anymore. Adrian's first instinct still was to run into the burning husk of a house to search for his parents, hoping against all hope. Ronan just stared in shock. He was only vaguely aware he was following his older brother, like he usually did when he had no idea of his own. He was unable to think, unable to speak, unable to act... and then he looked into the flames and saw - thought he saw, for surely that could not be real - a dark shape holding a scythe.
And then he was screaming and dragging his brother out and away from the house, before Death could take him too.

He wasn't sure what exactly happened next. They might have just ran around in circles, too shocked to even decide on a real direction, until night fell and they both collapsed in exhaustion.
Just before he fell asleep on the cold hard ground, Ronan noticed the first snow of that year was beginning to fall.

In the morning they were half frozen, but alive and finally able to talk clearly. They needed help, a place to get warm, a place to stay at least for a time. As they walked, Adrian talked about repairing their home with just a little help while Ronan wondered whether they would be sent to the sisters in the convent. He had heard the sisters were hard, disapproving of anything that was fun, but they were supposed to be good teachers as well...
Then they arrived to Delia's mansion and were welcome as family. Delia promised them anything in her power to help, but told them firmly that there would be no convent and definitely no living alone in a half-repaired house. There was plenty of room in the mansion, even more with Lucien at the university, and they were more than welcome to stay for as long as they needed.

Delia never pretended to be their mother, but it was clear she quickly came to think of them as her foster sons. She helped them study, read Ronan his favourite stories before bed time, everything to help recover from the tragedy that befell them.
And it was working. Though the boys still missed their parents dearly, eventually they came to be comfortable in the new home and even the nightmares filled with flames and hooded figures faded away.

When Adrian celebrated his birthday, it was a real celebration despite everything that had happened. And despite being now able to find work and start living independently, Adrian decided to stay. For his brother, but partly because he had come to genuinely like his new home and the new opportunities it gave.

Lucien, meanwhile, grew tired of studying when there was so much to do. All the other students were drinking and having fun and Lucien didn't want to be left behind. He didn't really care for the fact that he had no real experience with alcohol or that he was spending money he didn't really have.
His time then divided into the fun part - drinking, singing, dancing, riding horses and all the rest - and sleeping off the previous part. None of the other noble sons cared for their marks.
When he was finally expelled from the university, he didn't know whether it was the money issue and some kind of double standard, or if the others just knew where to draw the line.

When he got the news, he was devastated at first. He thought about how much his mother had wanted him to succeed, how much she had worked to pay for his way, and he imagined the upcoming argument. But it didn't take long until his guilt turned to anger, at the unfair university system and even at his mother for expecting too much of him.
When he got home, he was mostly annoyed and brushed off all questions. To his relief, Delia didn't ask much and almost didn't nag. She was happy to see her son again, but the silence went further than that. It almost seemed like there was an unspoken agreement - she didn't say anything about his studies and he didn't complain about Adrian and Ronan, or ask when they were going to leave.
Lucien didn't really mind them, or anything else. It didn't take long for him to fall back into his old easygoing life. He sailed through his days, playing in the snow like a child or just lazying around and made no real effort to make a new adult life for himself.

And there were other advantages to being back home.
While he was at the university life was too fast to think about Elodie, but when he met her at the marketplace everything came back. She was still the same, bright, fresh, with laughter that rang like tiny silver bells. And she was still as excited to see him and spend time with him as she was before he had to leave.

Everything was fine, everything was great. All smooth sailing, no need to change anything about this life. The only cloud in his sky was the fact, that not everybody in the village thought so.
As time passed the respect he used to have slowly faded as people started asking when he was going to find some decent work and take his responsibility. Some, especially old village harridans, even dared suggest he wasn't worthy of his inherited noble title.
He tried to argue and eventually threatened the harridan with punishment, but what had always worked for the Lorimers and his father, even for his brother, completely failed for him.

Putting Tiriel in her place made Nadine feel like a real lady again instead of a little child. To know her will was still relevant, that there were some things her mother and lord Meryn couldn't decide for her, it made her feel alive again.
Maybe too alive.
The next time she saw Tristan in the marketplace she couldn't help herself and had to go to him. She had been too lonely for too long and didn't want to pretend any longer. She couldn't, not if she wanted to keep feeling alive.
She ran up to her secret love and kissed him, so full of life and joy that she never even looked around for her husband.

She didn't know for exactly how long had Meryn been standing there.
She heard the girl behind her say "My lord," but even that wasn't enough to clue her in, and even if it did, it probably would have been too late anyway. And then Meryn spoke himself, his voice quiet but all the more terrifying, and Nadine and Tristan jumped apart, their hearts racing and the same guilty expression on their faces.

Meryn marched to the pair, opened his mouth to speak again, and Nadine started screaming instead.
"I don't belong to you! And I never will! I don't care that my stupid mother forced me to say the words, you are not my husband, not really. I am the lady, the heiress and ruler, and I will do what I want! I don't..."

He slapped her.
Nadine fell silent in the middle of the sentence and just gaped at her husband. It stung, but the shock was stronger. Nobody had ever hit her, not even when she had defied her mother and screamed at Meryn. She had never imagined she ever could overstep somebody's patience.
"We're going home." Meryn said, still quietly, but there was more anger in his voice than Nadine had ever seen in him. "And there I will decide what to do with you."

On the way home they were both silent. Meryn's expression remained stern and Nadine tried her best to remain furious, but she was growing increasingly nervous. When they entered the manor, she almost wanted to cry.
Only when they were inside, in private, did Meryn speak again: "I was patient with you. I agreed to save your reputation, accepted your bastard, even put up with your moods and waited for you to start behaving like a proper wife. And this is how you repay me? By shaming us both in public like this?"
"It wasn't..." Nadine didn't even finish the sentence when she realised how absurd it would sound. "I was just... You have no right to tell me what to do!
"Really? I am your husband, in case you have forgotten. I have every right to tell you what to do. And every right to punish you as I see fit."
Nadine cringed, afraid he would slap her again. She wanted to protest, to defend herself, but her righteous indignation melted under his glare. "I'm sorry, please don't... I'll never do that again."
"That's exactly what you promised when you said your wedding vows. I believe it's time you learned about consequences." Meryn said coldly. "About what happens when you break vows made before the Watcher."

What happened next was like a series of nightmares.
Her mother refused her any mercy, not after Nadine begged her, not even after she threw herself on the floor and cried.
They dragged her before the priest, like a common girl. She cried again, begged and made all kinds of promises, but the priest, the same one who had officiated her forced marriage, refused to see how much she had suffered. He sentenced her to a terrible public humiliation with only the words "If you are truly repentant, you should be glad to do penance."
She refused at first, but just like at the wedding, they would not listen to her at all. Meryn just threatened her with pillory, like a low-born adulteress, if she didn't obey.

She had no other choice. Her beautiful hair was cut short and she was put into a rough gown fit only for a beggar woman. She could imagine how the whole village would stare at her, whisper behind her back...
And then Meryn walked up to her, to lead her out of the mansion and Nadine was sure he was smiling.
"So now you want to shame us both in public? If you cared for your precious reputation, you would never do this. You just want to humiliate me."
Meryn flinched from the unexpected outburst, but regained composure faster than Nadine hoped.
"You have humiliated yourself and will have to accept the consequences of your choices."

And so she had to walk to the church and at least pretend to pray for forgiveness.
She could feel the stares and wished everyone looking at her would drop dead. She wished she would turn invisible. And then, after what felt like ages, she only wished it would finally end and everyone would forget this ever happened.

She spent the next few days in her room, throwing things, crying, refusing everyone and everything. She was too embarrassed and angry to even want food.
When she finally walked out, her husband was waiting for her.
She had prepared whole speeches full of poison, but her anger had run out since then. And now that Meryn had put his foot down once already, she was afraid of more punishment. "What happens now?" She asked.
And he told her. He had their marriage dissolved and would be leaving shortly, "since this obviously wasn't working and would only make them both unhappy." She felt he was mocking her - had he not just made her as unhappy as she could ever be? - but even that emotion was too weak to get through the shock.
And then he told her to enjoy her freedom and left with a stiff formal bow. She supposed he must have said goodbye to her mother beforehand and was only waiting for her.

Only a few days ago she would have been overjoyed to have him gone from her life, but now she wasn't so sure this was what she had wanted. Yes, she hated him, now more than ever. But she was also suddenly afraid of the future, of what this new freedom might bring her.
She had changed back into her luxurious gowns, but her short hair was still a cruel reminder of her humiliation before the whole village.

Tristan, meanwhile, could not believe his luck. When Nadine's husband caught them together, he expected his wrath - and maybe hers as well - would turn on him. Instead, she was the one punished and Tristan was completely forgotten. And he certainly did his best to keep it that way. He kept his head down and took care to not even mention the lord's and lady's names.
But then days passed and he started feeling safe again. Nadine was not seen for a long time after her penance and lord Meryn seemed eager enough to forget the whole affair. And Tristan could start living his life again.

Even if Nadine wanted to spend the rest of her life hiding away from him and the world, there was more to life than just her.
After all, he deserved the admiration he received and he would he stupid to forbid everyone from giving it. He deserved to be happy, to forget about his crappy small house and hard work and feel like he was the whole world for someone. For anyone.
And there was a new girl in the village, a fiery red-haired beauty longing for adventure and eager to let him show it to her.

He was just starting to think that Yvaine might be just the right girl for him, when distraught-looking Nadine appeared out of the blue.

Yvaine took a step back, but Nadine was only looking at Tristan. For a while she just stood there while tears formed in her eyes, but then she decided to be angry instead.
"You... you bastard! I suffered all that for you and you... I hate you!" She did her best to look fierce, but before she could finish her tears were already flowing and soon she was unable to speak at all.
She slapped Tristan instead and then fled.

Tristan tried to shrug and pretend nothing had happened, but somehow wasn't able to. He had seen Nadine as one of the smitten girls, in love and therefore less powerful than him, but what if she stopped being in love? She was still the lady and local ruler...
Suddenly the whole marketplace lost its appeal for Tristan, even Yvaine seemed less charming than just a while before.
He walked home and hoped she would soon realise he had really done nothing wrong. He still liked her, she just had not been there at the moment.
But it didn't even take a full day for her to appear on his doorstep. Tristan tried to give her the perfectly polished excuse and explanation he had prepared, but she didn't even listen. All she wanted to do was scream something about a betrayal into his face.

"You don't understand..." He said for what felt like a hundredth time. She slapped him, with way much force than he would expect a tiny girl like her to muster.

She reached out to slap him again, he tried to defend himself and then they were fighting. He didn't even know how exactly it had started, only that suddenly she was scratching at his face and he was trying to keep her off him. Nobody could expect him to just take this kind of abuse without ever hitting back, could they?

And then he managed to throw her to the ground, perhaps harder than he had meant to, but by then he was fighting with all he had. There was a brief feeling of victory, of satisfaction. And then he noticed a village guard running towards them.
Tristan froze in place, unable to act while things around him were happening too fast. Nadine was crying again, but she looked more vicious than hurt. The guard helped her to her feet, but even before she was standing again she pointed at Tristan and shrieked for him to be arrested, whipped, even executed. And there was nowhere to run and no chance to fight.

He was told lady Nadine would decide his fate in the morning and didn't know whether to be angry or relieved. At least his own anger slowly gave way to fear and a decision to try to appease her. He even managed to scrounge up a flower with which he hoped to charm her back to her old puppy-eyed devotion.

And at first everything seemed to work just like he wanted. Nadine accepted the flower and even smiled at him. But then he asked if that was all and he was free to go and Nadine's smile vanished like it had never been there.
"You still must be punished. Or do you really think a single flower is enough to just forgive attacking your lady? Not to mention your entirely shameless behaviour before?"
Tristan's carefully prepared facade of meekness collapsed and was replaced by anger once again. Punish him? For what, not groveling enough?

"I said I was sorry. What more do you want?" He snapped at her, before he even knew he was doing it. "I thought you were nice. I thought you recognised when someone had real value, but you're petty and cruel, just like the rest of them. You may look like a lady, but you're just a..." He stopped himself just in time, but the damage had already been done.

The young lady's expression changed from shock to anger to an ugly smile and Tristan knew this was it.
"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me, I..." He was prepared to sink to his knees, to do anything to save himself from punishment, but Nadine didn't even look at him.
"I'll show you petty. I don't want to even see your face. Ever again. Guards! Get him to the prison mines, out of my sight. And add a taste of the whip for the journey. To show him petty cruelty."

Tiriel's life was just as quiet as Elena's, if less easy and much poorer. At least the village wise woman kept her in and let her earn a few coins, just enough to keep food on the table and with enough scrounging and saving, even afford a few new books for Faelyn to learn from.
She found her life still revolving around her daughter, her only pride and joy in her poverty. She had managed to keep her away from Tristan and Faelyn excelled in everything she did. And even when her smile still reminded Tiriel of her former love, even when the girl was sulky and stubborn, she was still absolutely perfect and the time spent reading books and telling stories together - usually about magic and the supernatural - were still Tiriel's favourite part of every day.

It was Faelyn's birthdays that marked the years rather than Tiriel's own, as it was her daughter's life she mainly wanted to build. And as it grew stronger and more solid with every new birthday cake, Tiriel didn't ever look back at her own old life and old dreams fading more and more into distant memory.

If only the old life and old decisions wanted to let go as well.
Even after all the years, Tiriel still had not forgiven Tristan for stealing her heart and then throwing it away. She had sworn off all romance, all men, but it was mostly Tristan she tried to avoid every time she went to the market.
She had thought Tristan was avoiding her too, that at least the bees had taught him to leave her alone, but maybe he was too stubborn to learn anything. Or maybe it was her carefully maintained indifference
and her head held high that provoked him, or something completely unrelated that he just decided to take out on her. It probably didn't really matter. What mattered was that suddenly he was in her face, berating her for... insulting him, or ignoring him or something else completely ridiculous. At first she was too shocked to even understand what exactly it was he way saying.

And then she snapped and launched herself at him. He had ruined her life, ruined Faelyn's life, and had the audacity to demand something of her? No, never. Never again.
It was a moment before Tristan recovered enough from her first attack to start defending himself, but even then she didn't let up. She fought with her nails like a wild cat, he and her rage the only things in the world at that moment.
She didn't even notice that a shocked crowd had gathered around them, a few people cheering her but most screaming for the guards, for someone to tear them apart.

She wrestled Tristan to the ground, feeling powerful and vindicated, feeling on top of the world. It was so good, so right, that even when she noticed all the people it only made her euphoria greater. Let everybody see what Tristan was really like, what happens to cheaters and harassers.
And then the guards finally arrived.

Only when she was put in a cell and awaiting judgement did Tiriel fully wake up and realise what had happened and what would follow. She went through a dozen possible scenarios in her head, a dozen possible judgements, trying to guess how much she needed to be afraid.
She wanted to be defiant, but when they brought her before lady Nadine and she saw the anger in the lady's face, she just looked down and stayed silent. She couldn't bring herself to ask for mercy, to express any regret about bringing Tristan back to his place, but she could see anything else would only bring a punishment much worse than what was coming.
She kept her head down and still there was something in her silence that made the lady add whipping to a day in pillory. Tiriel just wondered just what was Tristan to her, if she was one of the silly hussies he had seduced. It was better, easier, to think about that than to imagine the coming punishment.
She feared the humiliation even more than the pain. She had grown used to the scorn of most villagers, but to be put on display for everyone to see, including her daughter who looked up to her... but even that proved more bearable than Tristan being there the whole time. To see him standing just before the raised platform she was on, watching her, no doubt trying to see her tears or any other mark of weakness, that was the worst of all.
At least the other people eventually grew bored of her and then finally dispersed when it started raining.

And then, at dusk, it was finally over and she was released. She looked around for Tristan, suddenly afraid of more harassment before she could flee home, but he was nowhere to be seen. Probably afraid of what the rain would do to his clothes and his perfect hair.
But there was someone else there, someone she didn't expect.
"Are you... are you all right?" Devin was trying to hide his nervousness with a smile, but he looked unsure if she even wanted to see him. "I mean, I..."
Tiriel shook her head, but made a few steps towards him. It wouldn't do to drive away probably the only friend she had left. "I'm fine." She said. And then "Thanks."
Devin's smile widened and he took her hands. "I'm with you. And if I could help... you to stay strong..."
His touch was nice. Warm, sincere, purely supportive. Maybe he had even used magic on her somehow, because her stiffness and pain seemed to be fading.
She smiled at him, this time with real feeling, but then bit her lip. After Tristan, she had sworn off all men. And he had his loving wife at home. But even so, even after they both turned to leave for their own homes, she could still feel the warmth in her hands and heart.

Lady Nadine was growing more annoyed with her life every day. She was the last Lorimer heiress, the lady in charge, and still she felt like the least relevant person at the Manor. Meryn - her husband! - had not touched her, thank the Watcher, not before her baby was born and not since then, but he still insisted they behaved like a husband and wife. And her mother encouraged him. Those two seemed to understand each other far too well, able to talk about anything to avoid uncomfortable silence at family meals, and probably thinking about how to best ignore her wishes.
She missed Tristan and his carefree passion, but no matter how much she wanted to, she still didn't dare go to him. She could only seethe in silence.

Her baby, a girl named Imogene, was healthy, but the lengthy labour was enough for Nadine to not want anything else to do with her. Her own wishes were ignored, she saw no reason to care for someone else on top of that. Plus, her mother seemed more than eager to fuss over her.

And then there was Tiriel. Sentencing her was the first thing that made Nadine happy since her pregnancy was discovered. After a long time it was the first opportunity to show her own will, act like the noble lady she was. But there was also something about Tiriel herself that made Nadine angry, either the simple fact she had dared attack her beloved, or maybe that her history made Tristan less than perfect. It was much easier to hate the girl than to think about the possibility that she might suffer a similar fate at Tristan's hands.
She was a lady, she was far superior, and she was Tristan's beloved. And she would make Tiriel understand that, in case the public punishment wasn't enough.

Tiriel had been trying to put her life back together after the punishment, to fade back into the shadows of obscurity and become invisible. She didn't even dare ask for anything more than that. Faelyn, her darling girl, had become distant, often angry, often not at home for days, and Tiriel couldn't even blame her.
And than the lady who had so enjoyed humiliating her marched right into Tiriel's home, into her safe refuge, and suddenly she was grateful Faelyn was not there. It took all of Tiriel's self-control not to lash out and she was sure that with her daughter witnessing this it wouldn't be enough.
She bit her tongue and took a step back, but her hands clenched by themselves. She did her best to turn to stone, to not even hear the insults and the laughter, but just seeing lady Nadine's face was enough for Tiriel to see red. But she knew to do anything would bring a much worse punishment than anything she had been through.

She bit her lip again, until the taste of blood filled her mouth, and made herself think of the pillory and the whip. That was what the lady wanted and Tiriel wouldn't give her that satisfaction.
Maybe it was the raw memory of her recent humiliation that turned her rage into a feeling of utter helplessness. Everything she had been through, everything she had learned, every time she had stood her ground, all her magic, and nothing could help her keep even her safe space free of harassment. Tears flooded her eyes and all she could do was turn away from the lady and her angry glare in a futile effort to hide her weakness.
When she finally ran out of tears, the lady was gone.

After that, Tiriel started spending more and more time in the woods. She tried to convince herself she was looking for a solution, something to be on her side, perhaps even help her fight, but the truth was she just didn't feel safe in her own home anymore. She still worked hard, she still read stories with Faelyn whenever the girl would allow it, but whenever the house grew silent and she had noting to do it was just too uncomfortable. Sometimes when walking in the dark Tiriel wondered if that was what Faelyn was doing at night and if they might run into each other.
But instead she found something else, a gnarled tree that felt somehow wrong. Something inside her screamed to run, but her curiosity was stronger, and then the blue light, too strong to be completely natural, fell on her and it was too late to run, even if she wanted to.
She heard music in her head and felt magic in the air.

And then darkness, a series of blurred images in her head, of dancing people, inhuman faces distorted with anger, laughter, and more darkness. She could vaguely remember being roughly passed from one creature to the other and then pain and the knowledge they were laughing at her.
And then empty darkness, almost welcome at that point and yet maybe even more scary than anything that came before.
And then she opened her eyes and could see her own house lit by the first light of dawn. Her whole body was hurting, but the emptiness inside of her was even worse.
She lay there for a long time, watching the sun slowly rise above the horizon and trying to find what it was that was missing. And then she remembered and wished she hadn't. She remembered the word "thief" and the anger that came over those creatures as soon as one of them said it. She remembered fighting as they took all her knowledge of magic and laughed. The pain. The helplessness. And then more laughter and more pain, even after everything was gone.
She sat on the ground and cried until she exhausted herself and everything turned dark again.

The next few days went by in a haze. Tiriel couldn't scream and wouldn't allow herself to cry any more, but the emptiness was still there and driving her mad. Even after she had given up and stopped trying to perform even the smallest, simplest, most insignificant bit of magic, it was all she could think about.
And when lady Nadine came by once again to insult and berate her, she had no self control left to stop herself. She remembered the first slap, Nadine's shocked yelp, and then just the sweet taste of revenge.

What came next was another series of blurred images, too distant to reach through to her. Another night in a cell. Another trial. Nadine's smirk as she mentioned execution or the prison mines and then, as a "mercy" only sentenced her to the pillory, the whip and a fine of several times more money than Tiriel had.
Lady Nadine's tone of utter satisfaction as she pronounced the sentence finally broke through Tiriel's apathy, but before she could react she was marched back into a cell to wait for the punishment to begin.
She tried to hold on to her defiance, but fear was already gnawing through her defences, even before the first stroke landed. And then she wished for the darkness to take her again, but remained cruelly conscious through it all.

When she was finally released at dusk, she barely able to stand. All she could do was turn away from the still lingering near the raised platform and weep. She didn't even want to speak to Devin, who she remembered seeing somewhere in the crowd.

And there was still the fine to pay.
Tiriel did her best to ignore her sore back, but even working through the night wouldn't bring her enough money soon enough. There were moments when she was sure all the hard work and falling asleep on her feet were for nothing and that lady Nadine knew and counted on it. But she just refused to give up and and Nadine win without a fight.

And then, when she was close to total collapse, Devin appeared out of nowhere with the missing money, like a saviour out of a fairy-tale. He looked so nervous when he offered to help, explaining why Katharyn agreed and how it happened they had so much money lying around, but Tiriel stopped hearing as soon as she understood she was saved. Before he finished speaking, before she even realised what she was doing, she hugged him and planted a big kiss right on his lips.
Devin just stood there with shock in his eyes. He didn't resist and Tiriel kissed him again between repeating the words "Thank you" over and over.
Only when the actual money appeared in Devin's hand did she let go of him and he fled back home.
Tiriel collapsed on her bed and for a first time in what felt like ages, she slept long, well and without any nightmares.