Rosemary, drowsy from too much time in the high sun, yawned, one hand on her hip. <<This one is tiresome. He wants to fight you>>.

<<For the rights to the child’s form>>?

<<For the rights to the woman’s oath>>.

The pyre looked at me then, with his piercing eyes, <<She gives her oath to whoever fights best>>?

Rosemary smirked. <<This one gives her oath to no one>>.

The pyre nodded. <<So the male is too eager>>.

<<The male is…entertaining>>.

<<He is tiresome>>.

<<It is entertaining how tiresome he is>>.

“Why are you smiling, Aurelie?” Sam’s voice cut through my attention, making me jump. So much more jarring than the sweet sensation of a pyre’s intentions brushing against my heart. “This is not a time for revelry! The duel is upon us.”

Us? I looked around, wondering which ‘us’ Sam meant, for surely I was not an accomplice of his, nor an encourager. I already attempted to express my dissent, but he firmly clasped ignorance, abandoning understanding, for both cannot fit in the same hand at once.

Without so much as a count, Sam Crawford—and I could never make up such idiocy—charged the tall and beautiful pyre, his head down…and with a mighty roar.

Episode 36: A Dastardly Bewilderment Of Great Proportions

The pyre, not in the least surprised, sidestepped the screaming man-child with very little effort and hardly any movement.

Enraged anew, Sam charged again. This time, he wrapped his arms around the pyre’s waist. But he could not manage to move him. And so it appeared he was offering the pyre a generous hug. An embrace of sorts, to which neither party had given consent.

Rosemary giggled, and I had half a mind to join her, except for my fear that the pyre would react in much understandable hostility toward Sam, taking his life or ripping his limbs. I had seen pyres do incredible things when they were so led. Rosemary had ripped open carriage doors. Vincent dismembered a speleothem. What could this being of light do to simple flesh and bones like Sam?

But my worries were underdeveloped. Due to some devastating degree of misfortune, another voice cut through the nonsense. One I preferred much less than Sam’s.

Braun Hallen Tower marched forward, causing his words to boom. “What is the meaning of this? A pyre engaging a human?”

Why were all these men always cluttering up my estate in the first place? Perhaps if I finally married one, I’d see less of both of them. My blood flowed directly to my brain, for this circumstance did not warrant giggling. It had hastily escalated to a nightmare. In fact, I wondered briefly if it were all some revenge of the cawler, a nightmare strewn out of malice.

“Release Braun Crawford at once, filthy beast,” cried Hallen.