All the mellow emotions she felt, vanished. The good feelings, gone. A void arose, a void that didn't seem to stop gobbling up all the good in the world. And in its space, it left nothing.
A void of nothing.
Lenora sat down on the sofa, directly facing Xanard and the woman. She knew the woman. Pure black hair, somewhat tall for a woman. Sharp facial features, long slender nape and enough breast-flesh to emphasize her chest, but not so much that it was overbearing.
Lenora had seen her in a picture, but never up close. But she had to admit, the woman was indeed as beautiful as everyone had made her out to be. There was no competition, none at all.
"You've done well," Xanard said.
The woman watched. Her dark dress matched her hair. "Who is she?" Clear.
"This is Dean," Xanard said. "She is an otherworlder."
"Your pet?"
"Yes." He gave Lenora a glance. "This is Brynhilda, my fiancée."
Lenora knew that.
She knew that all along. The only reason she could get close to the demon lord the last time was because Brynhilda was out of the picture. When the war had broken down and Crochetown lost, Xanard sent out Brynhild to deal with the elves and strike a deal. The elves feigned to cooperate but betrayed Brynhilda and murdered her. This enraged Xanard and he nearly broke through the curse, nearly shattering reality. But it was Lenora who comforted him. Alberto brought reason to him and together they made the demon lord stay indoors while Lenora tried her best to navigate a brand-new world.
But since Lenora was successful in thwarting the elves, Brynhilda didn't have to leave this time, and get murdered. She was here, and she was very much alive.
"She looks sad," Brynhilda said. "Maybe you should reward her." She traced her fingers down his cheeks, playing.
"Yes. Dean, name what you desire."
Lenora opened her mouth. But closed it. She wanted to spend time with him but she knew that would be unfair to both Xanard and Brynhilda. Her heart of course didn't care about another woman. Fuck her… but she couldn't say the same for Xanard. After all, she loved him. Her eyes moistened and soon tears nearly fell; but they never did. "I'll think about it," she managed to keep the sobs in check.
"I see, please do so. You must be tired. Alberto?" Xanard spoke.
The butler took Lenora away into her room and let her rest. He also brought her food and beverages straight to her room.
Sometime later the maid came to check and gave her a lecture about not wasting food and to eat but when she realized Lenora wasn't listening and still crying with her face buried in her pillow, she took all the food back.
Lenora assumed the maid wouldn't be back but she came back a few minutes later and dragged Lenora off the bed into the bathroom.
She also stripped her of everything and then threw her on the bathtub. A minute later, she slid her apron down, and joined Lenora.
"You said you'd prepare the bath beforehand," Lenora said, her voice a tad broken.
"No, I said I would prepare a bath if you lost an arm or a leg. And I never said when."
Lenora chuckled in spite of herself. "I suppose so."
"So, you admitted defeat?"
"Pardon?"
"You admitted defeat. You just left without saying a word to him."
"What can I say? He's taken."
"But you already knew that, yes?"
"Yes. And I was prepared to wrestle, to fight to the bitter end. I was prepared to kill her. But, honestly," Lenora moved closer to the maid. Instead of facing her, she rested her head on the maid's chest. "I couldn't. I'd heard many things about those two. How they used each other, how they were the aloof couple, and how they were just pretending for the sake of… I'd heard many things. But when I actually saw them, I didn't get those feelings. I didn't feel they were aloof or pretending. They, Xanard loves that woman. And she probably does too. I don't care much about her but honestly, I want Xanard to be happy," she said and her eyes leaked again. "But fuck this is frustrating!"
The maid leaned on her back and caressed Lenora's hair, not quite saying anything. She also gave Lenora a hug and after a few minutes when Lenora's tears dried, Lenora got out and wrapped a towel but then threw the towel away. Sighing she picked up the towel and folded it nicely. "Thank you. I don't think I know your name," she said.
"Brynhilda. But you may call me Hilda." The same clear voice.
"This isn't the time for jok-" Lenora paused, staring.
The maid… had grown taller and longer hair and… and was Brynhilda?
Now that Lenora thought about it, the two did share facial features but Lenora never assumed-
"I forgot you were a master of illusions," Lenora said.
"I'm still curious how you know of all these but don't beat yourself up. If you truly love him, don't give up."
"But you-"
"Yes, me. I don't want to share him, and I do not enjoy petty competitions about precious things in my life. However… I am willing to trust you."
"Why? And what do you mean?"
The woman stood and Lenora had to look away. As a woman she was used to seeing other women naked. And she just bathed with her, felt her warm chest, her breasts. She'd been so close to her, so close to her heart.
Yet.
Yet she couldn't look at the woman without blushing. "I can't compete even if I wanted to," she mumbled under her breath.
"Appearance isn't everything," Brynhilda said. "I don't have long," she said, bending down, touching her ear.
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, you don't know?" She smiled, mockingly. "Although, from your perspective, I may as well be around half your life." With a snort, the woman moved back and then slowly turned back into the maid; air surged and circled around her, drying her in an instant as her clothes floated and morphed back into her body. "My lady, how come your underwear is so… dirty?" She picked up the unwashed clothes for laundry.
"Blame the cape, not me," she said.
"Public fetish, I see," she said, leaving.
Lenora groaned. Does she have two personalities or something? But she had to admit; she was glad.
Glad to have that conversation.