☀️ Arselia and Akonia

Guyon groaned and buried the back of his head in the pillow. A swarm of gray voices washed over him once again. They remembered that damn Mellen again, who had selfishly cut her own life short... Could it be that she really wanted to live, and what she did was merely a moment of weakness? And what difference did it make to them now? Perhaps it would be easier to let go of the anger and resentment, but... But instead of Mellen, they could have saved Aiko. And she certainly would have found the strength to keep living. Well... those are matters of days long gone. It felt as if several years had already passed, so eventful had these few months been.
Other voices let out lustful exclamations directed at Erefir and a girl he didn't know named Alaria. Hmm, was she that talented beauty in the stunning stockings they encountered while leaving the patriarch? Perhaps it's worth getting to know her better. Or introducing her to Erefir. I wonder which is better... Guyon caught himself thinking that he wouldn't mind if Erefir swapped her armor for a bikini armor. Impractical, of course, terribly so, but aesthetic!
Merel is up to something again, planning something... I wonder what those gaps in his memory are? Is he seriously going to kill half of Carneol? Guyon compared his strength stat with Merel's. Well, let him try. A well-placed punch would quickly teach the astrologer a lesson about unnecessary encroachments. He wouldn't even have time to draw his staff. Hmm, he carries it around all the time like a prized possession but hasn't even uncased it once. Though, maybe that's for the best. Creepy thing.
But what he found difficult to endure was the condemnation directed at Beata. A criminal, a sinner, a bandit, a thug... He looked down at the girl comfortably settled on his chest. Well... Yes. She is a bandit and a criminal. A person who has made many terrible mistakes, some of which cost people their lives and reputations. Including people who clearly didn't deserve it. The director, for example, what was his name... Anton? Antony?.. An unfaithful husband with stupid taste. Did he truly deserve death? And yet she didn't even hesitate. Except she didn't kill the witness—Astellia. Now they seem to get along reasonably well... Not best friends, but they coexist normally under one roof, and that's something.
No, Beata is not a bad person. She is a person who has done many bad things, but those are not the same thing. Crimes were a job for her, one for which she was paid. If she had to choose between murder and robbery, she preferred robbery, but she didn't shy away from "wet work" either. She is a thief, she is a killer, she is a terrible brawler who often throws punches even when it's unwarranted, but she is not a sadist or a maniac who tortures defenseless victims. He knew this better than anyone.
Goosebumps ran across his skin. He had been in her power for several years. At her complete, undivided disposal. If she had been half as bad, she would have taken advantage of that. But no, her maximum was to yell, give him a slap on the head, or not hurry too much in pulling a crossbow bolt out of his backside, which she then patched up very quickly. Yes, unpleasant, doesn't add to her score, but... He remembered what the bandits had done to him. What they had done to him in Lower Lunaria. Back then, he too had been in the undivided power of other people. A willless, helpless living toy. And there, they used him to the maximum, forcing him to do things that make his stomach turn just from the memory. But Beata, she... Respected him. In her own way, of course, but she respected him nonetheless. And the further they went, the more strongly he felt and understood this.
There was only one thing he didn't understand—how she managed to fall in love with him. A pathetic loser, a useless piece of nothing, unworthy of love. This was the truth he had lived with since birth. His family had always demanded the impossible from him, endlessly comparing him to the children of his mother's friends, who were better in everything. It didn't get much easier in the army—he was never among the best fighters, just a mediocre one. Well, he was pretty good at fighting with two swords at once, and that was it. The commanders didn't particularly value him. They didn't consider him hopeless cannon fodder, and he was thankful for that. And after the capture... He himself didn't understand how he found the strength to live and fight during those terrible year and a half.
Beata... She truly saved him. She became his guardian angel. Yes, that's the kind of guardian angel he has—drinks, curses, steals, kills, and throws punches. Did he deserve someone better? Unlikely. Did he deserve someone like her? With a very large stretch. After all, Beata was strong, unlike him. After everything that had fallen upon her in childhood, she could still smile; there was still kindness in her—a great potential for kindness that she herself didn't see or realize. And now, it seems, she has glimpsed that potential. She set herself on the path of good and plowed through it like a locomotive, thinking little of the consequences. And yet, consequences are inevitable.
Guyon winced again. Damn Enio, damn fire... Beata blamed herself, but... But she wasn't the one who slipped him the poison. She wasn't the one who set Carneol on fire. Other people chose such a reaction to her actions. Could she have been smarter and more cautious? Yes, she could. But would she have had to recoil from every shadow if every person they met on their path had been even half as kind as Aiko, Erefir, Kilika, or Astellia? That's just the thing.
He pressed the dozing girl close to him. The path of redemption lay ahead of her. She had taken the first steps, but a long and difficult road awaited her, with many dead ends, many mistakes, and falls.
And he would be by her side on this path. And if she lost faith in herself—he would believe in her for the both of them.