The Ogre Strength Fairy and the Eldest 'Son'
Chapter 202 - They Reflect The Best Of Us, The Worst Of Us, And You Polished The Latter

Chapter 202: Chapter 202 - They Reflect The Best Of Us, The Worst Of Us, And You Polished The Latter

The black fabric was almost invisible in the dark, while gold trim caught hints of lantern light as they walked. Elua’s small fingers traced one of the styled patterns at her abdomen, drawing attention to a small slit that seemed to be... missing something..

"Even though I chose these colors specifically to match you and your suit. I wore it all day knowing we’d each have part of the same outfit on."

Her husband-wife’s steps faltered slightly as she realized something.

"Because of the ribbon?"

"Mhm. I knew you would wear it. I pulled it from this dress~"

A hint of satisfaction colored her voice. The ancient cultivator thought about the meticulous focus she had gotten in while weaving the blonde hair into it by using her essence control. She sighed, dramatic but not really upset.

"I’m glad we could truly match for a day. Though I’ll still have to wear my usual clothes during the competition itself. The sigils are... potentially too useful to leave behind."

"Your illusions could recreate this one though."

"Exactly! That’s why I wanted to wear it properly first. To get all the details right."

Qatrand’s arm slid tighter around the cute girl’s waist.

"You really do think of everything too much."

"Only because it’s for you."

The soft, demure admission hung in the air between them. Elua leaned closer, savoring these last moments before they would need to part for the night. The next day she would be especially busy.

’Why did I agree to help them greet and guide the mass of latecomers on the final day before it all started?’

"You have to give me a proper compliment about the dress. Since you made me wait all evening."

"It’s... beautiful on you."

A ’pleased’ hum escaped Elua’s throat as she pressed closer to Qat’s arm.

"Just beautiful?"

"Distracting if I stare. I was trying not to. Though..."

"Hm?"

"I... usually have to try not to. So that means it is probably not the dress."

’Hnng~’

The hands holding onto the swordswoman’s arm grabbed tight then fell loose. As Elua took a step back and looked up, Qatrand had already taken stock of the particular amalgamation of feelings that were brewing in her wife.

"Just one."

The low voice declared to herself as much as the shorter girl before they shared a long, long *single* kiss. Qat would remember to tell the heiress that she was not allowed to hold the back of her head to keep it going indefinitely, next time.

---

The competition grounds buzzed with early morning activity as cultivators and merchants set up their spaces for the short period before the first event started. Some were already waiting to circle the three towers and watch the climb. Qatrand adjusted the position of her heavy blade as she scanned the crowd.

The insignificant weight of Elua’s folded note pressed against her chest where she’d tucked it inside her blazer. She’d found it threaded with twine onto her sword hilt when she woke, with a simple phrase.

/ You’ll win. Though I climbed one first~ /

"Brother!"

The call broke her attention and made her turn as two young boys pushed through the crowd flanked by Yecine retainers. Kaland and Ajoreal - siblings that she hadn’t had any actual interactions with. Kids barely around the start of their Youth Guild years.

They raced toward her with more open excitement than she’d ever seen on any Yecine faces. Of course, she hadn’t had a lot of interaction with children in general at their age.

"Father said we could watch you compete!"

The older of the two at seven years vibrated with energy as he spoke. Kaland’s usual strict posture was not *quite* forgotten in the festival atmosphere, but it was obvious that it took more effort. Meanwhile the other boy, not far past six years, hung back slightly behind his brother. Ajoreal’s eyes shone with a clear... admiration.

Their presence as well as their seeming opinion of her slightly unnerved Qat.

"We’ve been practicing the same basic forms you used to do!"

"Will you show us how strong you’ve gotten?"

Something in Qatrand’s chest tightened even more. She had never seen them like this - had never really spoken with them at all. Even though talking to Navuill had improved, she couldn’t just... convince herself to treat these children like they were close. The family kept the children’s training separate.

The Yecine family did not even eat together most of the time - despite having halls and kitchens to do so. It was one of the reasons she had grown to like visiting the Goltbred estate so quickly. Unlike that warm everyday affair, the mood was always solemn during the few shared meals and demonstrations at her birth home...

"Of course. I hope you’ll learn from the events and matches. You might still compete in the next cycle."

"We will! Father says we need to pay close attention and to see how to be proper Yecine men."

Ajoreal stepped forward and spoke, emboldened by the expected response of their eldest sibling. The comment bothered her, though she didn’t show it. After all, that was what she was pretending to be. A male heir. Kaland nodded just as seriously before adding more needles.

"Not like those other cultivators who waste time with weak things. Like that Goltbred girl who’s always hanging around you."

The tightness in Qatrand’s chest turned cold. She recognized the particular curl of distaste in those memorized words. It was Anper’s voice coming out from such young lips. Clear and... bitter.

"Yes, father says weak girls just distract from important training."

"That’s why we can’t practice with them at the Youth Guild. They’re too soft."

The youngest added before the older spoke. Innocent repetitions of ’facts’ that they had been told.

"Is that so?"

Her low voice remained steady, but her spirit had entirely curled protectively around the fragment of Elua’s spirit. She thought of her wife’s raw power, carefully hidden. Of Yatrel’s fierce reputation. Of her own hidden truth. The female cultivators she worked with in the army and on different missions since she became an adult.

’Are we too soft? Or is he too rigid?’

"But you’re different, brother! You still must be strong, even if you have to spend time with her."

"Father says you just need to remember proper Yecine values."

Both of them looked at her with pride and not judgment. Espousing filial duties just like any elder would. They’d been taught they were superior... and so had she. Qatrand wondered if they actually understood the hateful bits.

’How long? How long has he been feeding them this poison? How long did I sip at it myself without knowing?’

She found herself pressing over her clothes above the note, thinking of its simple words. Confidence and an admission of going through something first. The hatred of a child for something they’d been taught to hate. Would she also have carried this into adulthood without El?

’She’d probably say that I wouldn’t. That I would have eventually been perfect even without her help.’

But Qat wasn’t so sure that, without *someone* to talk to and compare herself to whom she respected, she would be who she is now.

"My wife... your sister-in-law is one of the strongest people I know."

Both boys blinked at the firm tone of voice. It was an elder lecturing! She knelt to their level, meeting their confused gazes. Elders didn’t kneel to them... they also didn’t pause to choose their words carefully so much.

After all, they were always practically the same words.

"Strength isn’t just about... how well you fight. Sometimes it’s about how you think. How you care for others. Our duty as cultivators is to protect people with the power we gain. Can you claim to protect me better than her?"

"But Father says-"

"Our father says many things."

The words came out sharper than intended. She blinked slowly before softening her voice. Qatrand needed to remember that they are not enemies, just misguided members of her family. Even her father.

"Watch the matches today. All of them. Even the women. Then I want you to tell me what strength looks like to you."

Ajoreal’s face twisted in a sour look.

"Are you saying Father is wrong?"

"I’m saying you should learn to see with your own eyes. To speak with your own tongue. Our duty is to keep an eye out for threats to society. That’s what proper Yecine men do, isn’t it?"

As if finally done with letting their expectations be set, she saw Anper approaching through the crowd. The servant retainers bowed on his approach and her brothers straightened automatically at the sight of him. Their initial excitement and current confusion tucked itself away behind proper stoic expressions.

Seeing it made her a little sad, despite knowing she wore such a look in the family and at work as well. The swordswoman couldn’t help but feel like every one of them was polished into tiny mirrors from a young age.

’Reflecting exactly what he wants to see. Except he has never seen what he wanted in me.’

Qatrand er Yecine stood to her full height as Anper’s voice rolled out of his throat. It carried the usual weight of authority they were all used to hearing.

"You should be in the viewing area already. The climb will begin soon."

Both boys bowed stiffly to him and their eldest sibling before turning to leave. The younger one glanced back at her with an uncertain expression before his brother tugged him along. The servants closed around them to keep the crowd at bay.

"I trust you were not filling their heads with... improper ideas."

Pigeon blues shifted to stare at the steely gray. Though she felt calm for now, she knew he had grown a habit of saying something eventually. Something that would stab more cold into her spirit that warmed back much too slow.