“Peregrine, I've received news of your fiance.” Count Valin Fern of Sumbria suddenly spoke at the otherwise quiet breakfast table.

  I looked up from cutting one perfectly poached egg. Lord Geoffrey of Oakley was the last person I wanted to talk about. “Yes, father?”

  Instead of answering, he stared at me with pinched eyebrows. Father was firm, and often so distracted with his work as Prime Minister of Sumbria that he wasn’t around much… to the point that Mother had long given up and moved to another part of the mansion. I could feel the stern disapproval as he asked. “Isn't there something you should be telling me?”

  Alright, no need to panic.

  Father might be a standoffish man, but he was usually stiffly polite and never one to ask questions without good reason…

  I just wished I knew the reason. “I'm not sure what you mean?”

  “What does your character sheet say?”

  The notification tab was in the corner of my vision and I willed it open.

  My stats included the fake character sheet I’d created with my [Deception] skill as well as my actual character sheet in brackets. I probably should have put more points into [Deception], but I couldn't help myself - I needed archery to keep me sane. That was why I had put more of my points into Skills [Sniper], enough to roll it over ten into +bonus efficiency. But my Skills and Abilities weren't what father was talking about...

  I realized what was wrong right away. Or, more accurately, what was missing.

  “I don’t have the [Fiancée] title anymore.” The special title signed under magical contract no longer appeared under my mana total. Joy and excitement made my heart beat wildly but I kept a gentle facade.

  “Correct.” The count pushed aside his plate and a servant stepped forward to offer him a hot cup of lions-mane brew. Father carefully added his own unigoat cream and crystal sugar cane. “You’re no longer engaged to the Oakley's boy… I was expecting you'd have noticed.”

  “My apologies, father.” I bobbed my head and hesitated only a bit before asking. “Do you know why?”

  “I do.” He drew in a deep breath. “Lord Geoffrey is dead.”

  Well, that would explain it. “Is he… perma-dead?”

  It was an important question, since many nobles traveled with the token blue [Revive] potions for emergencies. Sumbria had strict regulations on death and revival and inheritance, but even if death canceled the title - nothing said they couldn't be re-engaged.

  Father sipped his mushroom brew. “I'm afraid so. His ship was sunk by pirates.”

  “Oh.” There wasn't anything else I could say without letting my relief show, so I settled for a polite, “May the Tidewalker pass his spirit to its next life.”

  In another rare show, Father’s voice softened, “I’m sorry Peregrine… I’ll give you some time to grieve before I find you a new suitor."

  “Thank you, father.” I cut a piece of egg and tried to remain calm. Sometime on my face must have shown because Father frowned, but he didn't say anything more.

  I stared at the egg on my fork. I couldn’t eat it. No, I couldn’t even think about food right now!

  I was free!

  The elf who had been a constant thorn in MY side for years was gone. The pages of angry rants I'd penned in secret were countless.

  The very first time we’d met, he’d had the audacity to call my father a ‘nimby-minded bleeding heart who sympathized with rabble’!

  I’d almost punched him in the nose.

  After we were engaged, it had only gotten worse. From him constantly pinching my arm, ordering me to be silent, and reminding me that I was simply a tool for his advancement...

  “I’d like to be excused.” I said, and left breakfast early under my father’s eye. He let me go though.

  I would light a glow stone in my window every night for his passing. But first, I locked myself alone in my room and fell onto bed, grabbing my pillow. I rolled happily around on my bedspread, screaming gently into the soft fabric.

  I might have even let myself cry, just a little, when the sheer weight of everything fell off of my shoulders.

  “My Lady!” Lishinia, my attendant and guardswoman, rushed into the room. She was distraught as she fell on her knees at the bedside. “I’ve just heard the news. Please, if there is anything you need– oh my lady, your tears!”

  Lish leapt to her feet and rushed to grab a cloth and soak it in cool water from the ensuite washroom.

  “I’m fine, Lish,” I tried to tell her, but she draped a warm damp hand towel over my puffy eyes.

  I wondered if my maid knew more than she let on. I’d never spoken to my troubles with Geoffrey before - it was a ladies duty to keep private all things involving her husband, or future husband as my case may be.

  The Countess Fern, my mother, was always adamant that one never aired marital grievances with others.

  I wondered what Mother would say when she found out. We never shared breakfast together since the countess was in charge of Her Majesty’s wardrobe, and left early every morning to be there in time to dress the queen.

  In truth, my family didn’t pay much attention to me. Father was probably already back in his office, cross-referencing kingdom tax revenue forms from the previous quarter. If everyone expected me to stay quietly in my room… then it might be the perfect time to sneak out with Lish and get in some practice shooting, or join in the weekly archery contest at the Glades.

  Sure, I wasn’t allowed to reveal my true skill, but low level archery practice was better than no archery practice. And I needed an outlet to focus all of this restless excitement.

  No one would even know I’d snuck out.