Past Life
The return of the Lord of the North to Nord Fortress had never been an event accompanied by fanfares or solemn ceremonies.
Asil Nara Ashelot had no need for such a display.
Her presence alone was statement enough — a cold, majestic figure walking through the stone corridors, making even the bravest warriors instinctively press themselves against the walls.
And today was no exception.
After another expedition — a short one, only a week long — Asil strode through Nord Castle without slowing her pace. Her boots thudded dully on the stone slabs, her cloak of black wolf fur billowed behind her, and in the torchlight's gloom, she seemed like a ghost — beautiful and deadly.
"Report the situation," she said, not even turning her head to Boris, who followed her with respectful subservience.
Boris, the princess's right hand, began his report in a monotonous, practiced voice.
He listed economic reports, garrison movements, the state of supplies, minor skirmishes on the borders — nothing outstanding. A week was too short a time for the situation to have been turned upside down.
Asil listened with half an ear. Her golden eyes, cold as the winter sky over a frozen sea, looked straight ahead. Her face remained impassive — a marble mask behind which no one could ever guess her true feelings.
"...That is all that happened during your absence," Boris finished as they turned into the corridor leading to the princess's private chambers.
"And what about her?" Asil's voice did not change intonation. The same icy indifference.
But Boris, who had known his mistress for many years, caught a barely noticeable pause between the words.
"Oh..."
Of course, she was referring to Remesis Rania Ashelot — her wife.
The woman who had held the title of Princess of the North for over ten years but had never truly become it.
"Nothing remarkable happened with the lady..." Boris allowed himself a short exhale, more like a sigh. "As usual."
"As usual" — these words had become synonymous with Remesis's name. Days and nights spent locked in her room. Food brought by servants and taken away almost untouched. Complete silence behind locked doors.
Boris told the princess that the princess of this castle had, as usual, spent those days locked in her room.
Such behavior was absolutely characteristic of her.
But, in truth, such behavior was, of course, far from characteristic of the one who was the lord's wife and should have been in charge of this castle during her wife's absence. The Lady of the North was supposed to manage, command, keep order. And this woman simply... existed.
"I see."
Asil only replied shortly, showing no particular interest. Her gaze slid forward down the corridor — to where her chambers awaited her at the end.
Boris knew the conversation was over. He was about to bow and step back, but something made him hesitate.
"Your Highness," he said, a note in his voice that he himself had not expected.
Asil shot him a brief glance.
"What else?"
Boris faltered for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He was not sure if he should speak. This news was... ambiguous. On one hand, he was supposed to report everything. On the other, he did not know how his mistress would react.
But he could not delay. The Lord of the North did not like being kept waiting.
"Actually... something did happen," he said, lowering his voice.
"Hm?" Asil looked at him out of the corner of her eye.
"Actually..." the subordinate exhaled deeply before continuing. "It concerns the lady."
And at that very moment — for the first time during their entire conversation — a gleam flickered in Asil's golden eyes.
It was an elusive movement — a barely noticeable contraction of her pupils. No one who did not know the princess as well as Boris would have noticed it. But Boris knew. And so he continued, carefully choosing his words.
He told her everything — down to the smallest detail.
About how the princess of this castle had recently been caught in secret correspondence with the Emperor. About how intercepting those letters had been no trouble for the secret guard of the northern fortress. And... about the content of those letters.
The Emperor and Remesis were discussing a plan.
A plan to eliminate the Lord of the North.
"...The letters contain direct evidence of treason," Boris's voice became harder, metal ringing in it. "Even if no actual actions were taken, the very fact of secret collusion with an enemy of the North... Your Highness, we cannot leave this unanswered!"
He fell silent, waiting for a reaction.
But Asil, unexpectedly, only laughed softly.
The princess did not answer immediately. She continued walking — steadily, neither speeding up nor slowing down. The thud of her boots echoed through the corridor.
"...Your Highness," Boris spoke again, steel ringing in his voice. "According to the laws of the North, we must kill this woman immediately!"
He did not call Remesis "princess." He did not honor her with a title. Because for him — for all of them — she had never been one. A pathetic recluse who had earned neither respect, nor fear, nor even simple recognition. She was nothing more than a burden. Both for the Lord of the North and for the entire northern castle.
"Kill her, you say?" Asil repeated slowly.
There was neither anger nor approval in her voice. Only cold, inquisitive curiosity.
"Yes," Boris answered firmly. "That would be best to preserve the safety and order of the North."
He paused, choosing his words.
"In truth, she herself is not dangerous. This weak woman is incapable of causing you real harm. But the very fact... the very fact of her betrayal is already an insult. The Emperor's spy under our roof!"
He paused for a moment, then added, lowering his voice:
"Moreover, based on the content of the letters... Her Highness plans to act tonight. Tonight. We have time to prepare and strike first."
Silence fell.
"That is not necessary," Asil finally said.
"What?" Boris could not believe his ears.
"You heard me."
"But... but why?!" for the first time in many years, the servant dared to ask so directly. "Can we simply leave this?"
Boris could not believe his ears. He looked at his mistress with wide eyes, trying to understand if he had misheard. Was his mistress truly going to spare this shameless and pathetic woman?
Asil stopped and turned to him.
"Do not worry," her lips curved into a smirk that sent a chill down Boris's spine. "I know what I am doing."
"But..."
"My wife..." Asil turned back and began walking forward again, but now her steps were quieter, almost silent. "I intend to meet her myself."
***
Hearing the princess's words, Remesis was confused.
"What? What does she mean by 'again'?"
Remesis did not remember ever having raised the topic of their divorce before during the little over ten years they had lived together.
Of course, the fact that sooner or later they would divorce — since this was a marriage of convenience — was inevitable. She had always known that this day would come. She had waited for it, feared it, prepared for it.
And yet... Remesis had never brought up this topic in her presence before.
Not once.
So why had the princess said "again"?
Asil, meanwhile, looked at her with mild interest.
"Wife," she asked, her voice sounding almost gentle, "why do you want to divorce me?"
Remesis froze.
She looked at the princess, trying to read something on her face — but there was nothing there but calm.
"Is it not obvious?" Remesis replied, her voice sounding sharper than she intended. "Is there still any point in us staying together?"
At least, after everything that had happened, Remesis herself clearly saw no reason to continue.
She reminded her that their marriage had been a deal — and that deal had long since fulfilled its purpose. The alliance between north and south was no longer needed. Her presence here was now meaningless.
But Asil only clicked her tongue and looked at her.
"Sit closer," she said.
"I am not..."
"Remesis."
The princess called her by name. Not "wife," but simply — Remesis. For the first time in a very long time. No, Remesis could not even remember if the princess had ever called her by name before. And so her name, spoken by another's lips, sounded very strange.
She froze, unable to move.
"Please," Asil added.
This word — "please" — sounded even more foreign on her lips, so much so that Remesis involuntarily rose from her chair, not even conscious of the movement.
She walked around the table slowly, feeling her heart pounding somewhere in her throat. She stopped next to the princess's chair — not sitting, just standing, ready to step back at any moment.
"Sit," Asil repeated, nodding to the place beside her.
Remesis sat down.
The distance between them was now no more than an arm's length. Too close. Too dangerous.
But it was too late to retreat.
Asil took her hand — carefully, almost weightlessly, as one takes fragile porcelain, afraid of breaking it. Remesis flinched but did not pull her hand away.
"Wife, why do you say such things?" she murmured, continuing to stroke her hand. "Are things not good between us now? Why do you suddenly speak of divorce?"
"Because..." Remesis's voice trembled. "Did we not agree on this from the very beginning?"
The princess sighed and shook her head. She suddenly looked intently at Remesis with her golden eyes, and because of that gaze, the latter involuntarily shrank.
Asil was silent for a while, then chuckled softly.
"Do I really have to remind you of such things?"
"...What are you talking about?"
Remesis held her breath and looked at her, unable to look away.
"I already told you."
The princess leaned down and whispered right next to her ear — so close that her warm breath touched her skin, making Remesis shudder all over.
"You will leave the North only if you die."