The journey from the dining hall to the changing room was, at the very least, pleasant. Lady Sanguinia, like every one of her siblings I had encountered, asked the same question I had come to dread.
"So, Jared, what does your homeworld look like?" Her voice was sweet, her words almost musical, as she held my arm gently yet with an unmistakable firmness.
'Here we go again,' I thought, hiding my unease behind a polite smile. 'I doubt she doesn't already know the answer. They all do. It's eerie how much they know about me.'
"Jared?" Sanguinia tilted her head slightly, her silken hair cascading over her shoulder as her piercing eyes bore into me. "Did you hear me?"
I nodded quickly, though my thoughts lingered on her unnerving demeanor. 'She's the most terrifying of them all,' I thought, suppressing a shiver. 'Her angelic beauty makes her look ethereal, almost harmless, but that's the trap. Behind her smile lies something...'
"J-A-R-E-D?" Sanguinia's tone sharpened, her blood-red eyes glowing faintly as she leaned closer, her stare unyielding.
"Ah, yes. My apologies, Lady Sanguinia." I stammered, forcing calm into my voice. "It seems fatigue is catching up to me."
Her grip around my arm tightened ever so slightly, and there was a flicker of doubt in her crimson gaze.
"Really?" she said, her voice soft but dangerous. "You wouldn't happen to be thinking of another woman, would you? Perhaps... Juno?"
The pressure on my arm grew sharper as her eyes narrowed.
"Or maybe," she continued, her words dripping with suspicion, "Fulgrimia?"
"No, Lady Sanguinia. I am not thinking of them," Jared shook his head quickly, his voice trembling slightly. "I was just... trying to recall what my homeworld looks like."
"Hmm... is that so?" she murmured, her tone almost teasing. She loosened her grip on his arm, though her hand still lingered, a reminder of her control.
"Yes, my lady," Jared said, forcing himself to maintain eye contact, even though his instincts screamed to look away. "It's been a while since I last thought about it."
Sanguinia's smile widened, though the intensity of her eyes never faded. "You must tell me about it sometime, Jared. I'd love to hear every detail of the world that shaped you."
"Yes, I would gladly tell you," Jared said hesitantly before adding, "Can I ask you some questions, Lady Sanguinia?"
"Of course, dear!" Sanguinia replied with an almost melodic tone, her smile broadening as her crimson eyes sparkled. "I would love to answer every one of your questions."
Jared blinked in surprise at her openness. She's... not what I expected.
"W-Why are you and your sisters here for me?" Jared's voice trembled slightly as he pushed through his nervousness. "I mean, I'm just an ordinary mortal—a nobody, really. People like you wouldn't even look twice at someone like me, and yet... somehow, I ended up here."
"Oh." Sanguinia fell silent for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, with a soft smile, she spoke. "For me, it all started with Hathor. She told me about you. At first, I didn't feel particularly interested—just another name in the sea of mortals."
Her crimson eyes locked onto mine, their intensity making me hold my breath. Her tone shifted, carrying an almost disarming sincerity.
"But as time went by, something changed," she admitted. "I started to notice how often your name lingered in my thoughts, how your story seemed to creep into my mind unbidden. And then... I realized just how much I was thinking about you—how much I cared about you—even though I had never laid eyes on you."
Her confession caught me off guard, the purity in her voice cutting through the unease I felt in her presence.
"And then..." Sanguinia continued, leaning in slightly, "there was that campaign of yours three years ago. Do you remember it?"
I blinked, confused but unable to interrupt.
"Well," she said with a slight chuckle, "to say we 'met' would be stretching it. But I saw you there, on the battlefield."
She paused deliberately, the silence heavy with unspoken emotion.
"And guess what, dear? From that day on, you've never left my mind. Not for a single moment," she said, her voice dropping to a softer, almost reverent tone. Her hand reached out, gently caressing my cheek. The touch sent a shiver through me—a strange mixture of comfort and unease.
"And then one of my 'sisters,'" she continued, her voice hardening slightly, "decided to do something unforgivable to you. Something I cannot forgive." Her tone shifted back to its warm cadence. "But, thanks to her misstep, we had the perfect excuse to bring you here. And that's how you ended up in our care, my dear."
'Our care?' Jared blinked in confusion. What does she mean by that? Isn't it just her,and Juno aboard this ship?
"Uh…my lady," Jared hesitated, searching for the right words, "what do you mean by 'our'?"
"Oh, dear," Sanguinia replied with a soft chuckle, her crimson eyes glimmering mischievously. "It seems you've missed something important." She leaned in slightly, her voice taking on a teasing edge. "You're aboard a ship, yes, but not just any ship—it belongs to one of my sisters. Hathor is her name."
Jared's mind reeled at the revelation. Another one? That makes three of them here…or does it?
"Oh, so there are three of your siblings on this ship?" he asked cautiously, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Sanguinia shook her head, the movement slow and deliberate. "Five, dear," she said, her tone almost casual. "Well, six if you count the psychic projection."
"F-Five?" Jared stammered, his breath hitching. Wait, five? That means there are seven Primarchs involved, counting the others I've met. And psychic projection? What does that even mean?
Sanguinia giggled at his reaction, a melodic sound that carried an undertone of amusement. "You sound surprised—and I suppose you have every right to be."
Her expression shifted, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. "And let me guess—Juno has already told you not to trust any of us, hasn't she?"
Jared stiffened, his thoughts racing. How does she know that?
"What she said is true," Sanguinia admitted, her tone growing more serious. "Some of my siblings...well, let's just say they're not as predictable or, shall we say, stable as the rest of us. Take Fulgrimia, for example."
Jared suppressed the urge to scoff. 'If anyone here isn't normal, it's definitely you, lady Sanguinia.'
Sanguinia's expression softened as she noticed his reaction, though her amusement didn't wane. "But don't worry," she continued, her voice carrying a hint of reassurance. "The truly...let's say, eccentric ones aren't on this ship. For now, you're safe."
A few minutes later, they arrived at what appeared to be the dining hall. Jared's eyes widened as he took in the sight before him. Like Lady Fulgrimia's ship, this one also boasted a grand, luxurious aesthetic. The vast space seemed more like a ballroom than a mere dining area, with polished floors reflecting the golden chandeliers above. Long tables adorned with intricate carvings and elaborate centerpieces stretched across the room, their surfaces laden with ornate tableware and crystal goblets.
Yet, for all its grandeur, Jared felt out of place, the sheer opulence still something he couldn't quite wrap his mind around. Why does everything have to be so excessive? he thought, his gaze darting to Sanguinia, who walked beside him with an effortless grace.
"Now, dear," Sanguinia said, her crimson eyes warm with anticipation, "is there a particular dish you're craving?"
Jared hesitated, caught off guard by the question. "Uhh...grilled meat with bread?" he replied, his tone uncertain.
Sanguinia tilted her head, her expression shifting to one of mild curiosity. "Grilled meat...and bread?" she repeated, as though the simplicity of the request surprised her.
Jared nodded sheepishly. "I, uh...don't have much experience with fancy food," he admitted. "Most of what I've eaten has been hunted by my regiment or was standard-issue rations." He grimaced slightly, recalling the bland, utilitarian meals that had fueled him during his campaigns.
Sanguinia's smile softened as she regarded him, a glimmer of affection in her gaze. "Ah, my dear Jared, you've been deprived of true culinary delights for far too long," she said. "But fret not—tonight, we'll remedy that." She clapped her hands, and a servant immediately appeared, bowing deeply before awaiting her instructions.
"Prepare a feast," Sanguinia commanded, her tone firm yet melodic. "And include the finest grilled meat and freshly baked bread for my guest. He has simple tastes, and I intend to indulge them."
"Oh, I never thought you and him would be on a date this quickly."
The sudden voice was unmistakably feminine but carried a cool, deep tone that was sharp enough to cut through the room's ambience. Jared froze for a moment, unsure whether the statement was a jest or an accusation.
Sanguinia's crimson eyes narrowed, her warm demeanor evaporating in an instant. Turning to face the source, she forced a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Oh, one of my sisters," she said, her tone laced with false cheer. "And what brings you here, Khan?"
Stepping into the light was Alakhai Khan, her presence as imposing as the voice that had announced her. Her armor gleamed with a dull bronze sheen, offset by intricate engravings that seemed almost alive in the dim glow of the dining hall. A slight smirk tugged at her lips as she regarded Sanguinia and Jared, her piercing gaze betraying her amusement.
"Oh, nothing much," Alakhai replied, her voice steady and deliberately unbothered. "Just passing through and couldn't help but notice the interesting company you're keeping tonight." She tilted her head, her eyes briefly locking onto Jared, sending a shiver down his spine.
Sanguinia's fingers twitched, but she maintained her composure, though Jared could sense the tension rising between the two Primarchs. "Passing through?" Sanguinia echoed, her tone sharpening. "Strange, you've never been one for dining halls. So, why don't we skip the pretense, sister? What do you really want?"
Alakhai chuckled softly, crossing her arms as she leaned casually against a nearby pillar. "Must you always be so suspicious, Sanguinia? I'm simply curious. After all, it's not every day you see you doting on someone." Her gaze flicked to Jared again, her smirk widening. "So, this is the famous mortal you've been obsessing over?"
"You're no different, sister," Sanguinia snapped back, her voice taking on a low, almost animalistic growl. Her crimson eyes flared with restrained fury, locking onto Alakhai's unblinking gaze. "You're just as obsessed with him as the rest of us."
Alakhai chuckled lightly, though the sound carried no warmth. Her laughter seemed more a performance than genuine amusement, her hollow eyes betraying a cold calculation. "Haha, yes," she admitted bluntly, tilting her head. "I am. And that's exactly why I'm here—to ask if I might join you for dinner, dear sister."
The air between them grew heavy with tension, thick enough that the servants froze mid-motion, their every movement stilted and hesitant as they tried not to draw attention. Even the armored Space Marines flanking both Primarchs exchanged uneasy glances, their postures subtly shifting under the oppressive weight of their leaders' palpable animosity.
Sanguinia's lips curled back slightly, revealing her pearly teeth in a thin, menacing smile. "Oh? And what makes you think I would tolerate your presence at my table tonight?"
Alakhai leaned forward slightly, her smirk unfaltering, a dangerous gleam in her eyes. "Because, dear sister, I know how much you value appearances. Surely, you wouldn't want anyone thinking you were too territorial to share a simple meal with family?"
Jared swallowed hard, feeling as though he were caught in the crossfire of some unspoken war. His gaze darted nervously between the two women, their auras crackling with invisible energy that seemed ready to explode at any moment.
The silence stretched, each second feeling longer than the last, until finally, Sanguinia exhaled sharply, her composure returning. "Fine," she hissed through gritted teeth. "But don't think for a moment I don't see through your little games, Alakhai."
Alakhai's smirk widened as she gracefully took a seat across from Sanguinia.
Jared glanced at the nearest Marine, who offered him a slight, sympathetic shrug as if to say, Good luck surviving this.
'Did he just shrug at me?' Jared thought, staring at the towering Astartes marine. The marine's impassive expression and casual shrug seemed almost dismissive. 'Well, I guess that's better than outright ignoring me,' Jared mused, a mix of amusement and unease creeping into his thoughts.
The tension around the table was palpable, almost suffocating for someone like him. The Primarchs' presence was overwhelming, their powerful auras clashing subtly but undeniably. Sanguinia had shifted her seat closer to Jared, her delicate yet predatory features framed by a smile that didn't quite reach her intense crimson eyes. Her proximity was both comforting and unnerving, a paradox Jared couldn't quite reconcile.
On the other side, Alakhai sat with a posture of calculated ease, but her unblinking gaze bore into him, like a predator observing its prey. Her golden eyes held a spark of mischief, and Jared could feel the weight of her scrutiny as if she was peeling back layers of his very soul. The silence grew heavier, thick with unspoken tension, until Sanguinia finally broke it.
"What are you looking at him for, sister?" Sanguinia hissed, her voice carrying an edge that made Jared instinctively straighten in his seat. There was a mix of irritation and possessiveness in her tone, a growl underlying the words as if she were warning Alakhai to back off.
Alakhai's lips curled into a smirk, her demeanor unbothered, even amused. "What?" she replied smoothly, her voice dripping with mock innocence. "I'm simply looking at him. Is that a crime now?"
Her smirk deepened, a flash of fangs visible as she spoke. Alakhai thrived on the discomfort of others, and her deliberate prodding was a game she seemed to relish. If it was about getting under someone's skin, Alakhai was a master. But Sanguinia wasn't one to be easily swayed or distracted—though Jared could sense her focus beginning to waver. Her hands, which had been delicately clasped on the table, tightened into fists.
The tension between the two sisters was rising, and Jared couldn't help but feel like a piece on their chessboard. His gaze darted nervously between them. Is this how they usually interact, or am I just unlucky enough to be caught in the middle? He swallowed hard, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible, though he had a sinking feeling that neither of them would let him escape their notice for long.
Please, someone, stop these two before they crash into each other, Jared prayed silently, his eyes darting nervously between Sanguinia and Alakhai. He desperately wished for someone—anyone—to intervene before things spiraled further. Maybe Juno? Or someone who wouldn't make this worse...
Then, a thought struck him, and his unease deepened. Didn't Lady Sanguinia mention another sister? What was her name again? Hathor? Jared's stomach churned at the possibility. Let's just hope she's not like these two... or Fulgrimia.
Unfortunately for Jared, reality often had a cruel sense of humor. He would soon learn just how deep he was in over his head. But for now, at least, he wasn't dead. Yet.
The door to the chamber hissed open, drawing everyone's attention. The imposing figure of a Space Marine clad in Cataphractii-pattern Terminator armor stepped in, his presence commanding and undeniable. He was flanked by his gene-mother, who entered with a casual yet unyielding grace.
"Howdy, sisters! Seems like you're having a feast without telling me!" Hathor's voice rang out, warm and cheerful, her tone an almost jarring contrast to the tension in the room. Her smile widened, bright and inviting. Yet her eyes told a different story—dark, endless abysses brimming with unreadable emotions. Jealousy, though, burned the brightest among them.
Jared couldn't help but shiver as her gaze briefly flickered to him, and he knew then 'this situation had just gone from bad to worse