I Can't Get the Vampire Rogue to Romance Me

Chapter 42 - The Greatest Crime Ever

Evangeline grinned in satisfaction as she looked over her quest list. She had found the proper section on her character sheet when she swiped right at it. Artmond sat next to her on a tree root that had shaped itself into a really comfortable bench. The others were looking at various market carts within distance of each other.

Artmond gestured at the air, making a scrolling motion as he presumably looking at the same thing she was.

"What do you think?" she asked him.

"This looks like a lot. Isn't this all going to take a lot of time?" he asked.

"No, trust me. We can get this done while doing what we need to get done," she assured.

"Because of your god Meta," he said, gesturing his list away, before folding his hands between his knees.

"Yes, I suppose so," she agreed, doing the same.

"That must be nice, to have a reliable god like that," he said. "I've never really felt a particular kinship with any of them."

"I always wondered about that," she murmured, then realized how that sounded. The raised eyebrow on Artmond's face confirmed her rudeness. "I mean, I always wondered if there was a... I don't know... a god or goddess of nobility, you know?"

His eyebrow relented a degree, possibly because he did have impeccable manners, and it would be rude of him to not accept her lame explanation. "My understanding is that all gods think of themselves as noble."

She laughed. "I suppose that's fair." Then Sigismund voice caught their attention. While she couldn't quite here what it was being said specifically, it was clearly related to the price equal to the quality of some gloves she was looking at.

Just seeing her brought a new thought to Evangeline's mind. "Is the reason you don't really have a god, related to Sigismund?"

His wince said it all. "I will not speak on her behalf, you must forgive me."

"I wouldn't ask you to," she assured, then gave him a gentle smile. "You are a very good friend to her."

An edge of sadness tinged his own. "Hardly. A good friend would not want anything more than to be one for her. I am to greedy to be that self-less."

"You love her," Evangeline said. She didn't need to burn a Meta point to figure that one out.

He only nodded. "And even if I were an emperor, I would not be good enough for someone as spectacular and special as her."

"Midsommer leather my ass!" Sigismund cried from the midst of her haggling.

Artmond glanced at Evangeline, surprisingly self-aware of the timing. "She is brave, strong, and well-spoken. All the things I am not." He sighed again. "And it is because of those qualities that my mother passed over me to be her heir, even though I am older. I am destined to simply be a trophy husband to whatever lord or lady will pay my dowry."

"That... that sounds awful," Evangeline said, sitting up a bit straighter. Did she know this before? She got no pressure tempting her to burn her last two Meta points, so she just wasn't sure.

"No, not at all. I was perfectly content with my lot. I am much more suited to running a household than doing the business of an estate. I like parties and menus and dancing." He looked once more longingly at Sigismund. "She was chosen to educate me on my duties."

"A cleric?" Evangeline asked.

Artmond blew out a breath, "I suppose it's not really one of her secrets. She was a ward of a friend of my mother's and was destined for the same fate when she decided to take her destiny into her own hands and dedicate herself to..." He then closed his eyes, silently chiding himself for almost spilling her secrets again.

Evangeline set her hand over his in a reassuring pat.

He reopened his eyes, noting it, then wordlessly patting in return, acknowledging her gestured understanding.

"We were on our way to meet one of my possible future husbands when we were overrun by the goblins. This really has been a grand adventure! Even if I don't really fight well. I struggle to even raise my voice most of the time."

"I don't know, I feel like I heard you shout quite a lot when we were fighting off that vampire from the abandoned temple."

Artmond scuffed his toe on the dirt ground shyly. "Well, that was because Sigismund was in danger. I was still pretty useless in that fight."

"We all were, if you recall," she pointed out.

"Still, I guess, if there was anyone I would fight for, it would be Sigismund."

Just then there was a cry from a medium-sized dog, as they were cruelly kicked in the side.

"Beat it you mongrel!" a rough man shouted at it.

Evangeline and Artmond surged to their feet in tandem at the outrageous behavior.

"Don't you dare!" Artmond roared, the loudest and deepest Evangeline had ever heard from the nobleman. Apparently, there was someone other than Sigismund he would fight for.

They both surged toward the confrontation, Artmond down to the hurt dog's side while Evangeline placed herself between them and the shouting man.

"This is none of your business!" he bellowed in her face, spit flying.

"Excuse me," someone said, tapping the man's shoulder. Just as he spun around, Valerian landed a solid punch across the man's face. His head whipped to one side and then he stood there a moment, blinking before dropping to the ground like a puppet whose strings were just cut.

On the otherside, Valerian shook out his hand. "Oh heavens. I cracked a nail!" he declared while alternating between shaking it out and examining the frankly unseeable crack in his evenly cut nails.

She felt a temptation to make a show of checking on him anyway, but instead spun around to kneel down beside the dog. Artmond cradled the dog's head in his lap, as the poor starved thing whimpered. Tears were spilling down his face, as he spoke soothing words.

Then Sigismund knelt on the other side. The two shared a meaningful gaze, then she held her hands out over the dog's side. Light filled her palm. A few breathless seconds later, the dog's tail thumped on the ground and it sprang up. Artmond whooped with relief, petting and scruffing the dog's ears and neck.

Sigismund stood up, as reserved as ever.

"Hey, what about my cracked nail?" Valerian cried, pushing it toward the cleric.

She glanced down at it, than scoffed, stalking away as her answer.

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