The Master of House Thornbrick II

Margaret's cheeks flushed a soft and delicate shade of pink as she regarded Oga skeptically. "A jest?" she asked, her doubts well-founded.

Oga's eyes glinted with unwavering intensity as he spoke, "I understand your hesitation, Lady Margaret, but believe me when I say, this is no joke.

Every word passed my lips has been uttered with the utmost sincerity. I am not one to take marriage lightly."

A faint tremble in her voice betrayed her uncertainty as she spoke up, "But is it not too forward, considering how little I truly know of you?" Her words trailed off, and she searched his eyes for any hint of insincerity.

Oga felt a wave of shame crash over him as he realized the thoughtlessness of his proposal. His embarrassment was palpable, for he recognized the recklessness of his actions, caught up in the moment, and completely oblivious to her perspective.

"Even so, this does not seem like an appropriate place to discuss such a topic, wouldn't you agree?" Her voice was soft and gentle, her words measured, but her eyes betrayed her anxiety.

She paused, searching for the right words to convey her thoughts, but before she could continue, Oga's hands were already up, gesturing for her to stop.

"Let's discuss this in private. I was thoughtless," he whispered, his voice low and soothing. Margaret nodded, relieved that Oga had understood her discomfort.

The week he spent with her was memorable, but this was hardly the right place to discuss such sensitive matters. Oga's hand brushed against Margaret's, sending a jolt of electricity through her body.

'I suppose I've been too hasty, after all…I just recently got to know her,' Oga chided himself, feeling the weight of the room's gaze upon him.

Margaret's thoughts drifted to Oga and his proposal. Her mind whirled with questions, wondering if his desire for marriage stemmed from a need for companionship or a true love for her and the child.

As a woman who had lived a life of freedom, she couldn't simply accept his proposal without understanding his motives. Even if he is the first man to see her true self.

Margaret, a woman born into a family of great privilege, was the granddaughter of the illustrious Bassal Maverik.

Margaret's life resembled a magnificent tapestry, interwoven with adventurous opportunities that she cherished with utmost reverence.

Her eccentric lifestyle brought her great joy, and she relished every moment. In truth, she had become a Practitioner solely to prolong her life.

Regardless of the job, she was willing to put on that Faceless Mask and played it out, with unwavering determination.

The question now gnawed at her mind: did Oga desire her to act as his Madame? A woman who placed the household above herself, even at the cost of her own life...

For these reasons, Margaret knew she couldn't make a hasty decision. She needed clarity and a deeper understanding of Oga's ambition.

However, from Oga's perspective…. the Maverik House was in dire need of guidance for continuous survival and viewed his proposal as an olive branch.

He was convinced that with her foresight, she would not let the chance to unite an Ancient Household like his slip away.

After all, there was no guarantee that House Maverik would ever reclaim their Coat of Arms.

Oga was determined to secure the future of his House through any means necessary; how could he allow his heir to take the name of another?

Nuu could see the cog turning in Oga's head…his legs kept fidgeting.

Nuu let out a heavy sigh as he observed his brother, lost in thought yet again. 'He thinks too much,' Nuu thought to himself, a hint of impatience seeping through his mind. 'If it were me, I would simply take her.'

As he leaned in, planting a tender kiss on Berta's lips. The softness of her lips sent a thrill through him, but his thoughts soon wandered to Priscilla.

He couldn't resist the temptation any longer. Without a second thought, he moved his lips to hers, taking her in with a fierce passion.

The moment was electrifying, a rush of desire surging through his veins.

With a subtle motion, he eased the tension in the room.

Boisterous cheers resonated in the backdrop in honor of Nuu. There seems to be a few stragglers, that were still partying the night away.

And one of the said individuals was the inebriated Phi, who seemed to have surrendered himself to a state of unadulterated bliss. While, his women lay asleep on the ship, unaware of his revelry.

Around the fire pit, a delicate chuckle lingers in the air…

It was none other than Lady Dahlia…causing a few heads to turn.

None could perceive her thoughts as keenly as Yodhe, after all, they have been friends long before she became her in-laws.

It took no effort from Yodhe to decode Dahlia's laughter. 'The wench was in love.'

"My dear," she whispered softly, "I dare say you have become quite smitten with this gentleman." Her voice betrayed a hint of admiration as she spoke.

"The only thing that remains is for him to ravish you, as in the days of yore. Wouldn't you agree?"

The man in question was not Nuu…for men such as he were commonplace within her tribe. In fact, there was one sitting across.

Dahlia's expression changed in an instant, her smile disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. Not only had this hag intruded upon her private thoughts, but she had also spoiled the moment with her impertinent comment.

"Pray, do not contort thy countenance so," Yodhe implored, "Speak truthfully," she continued, her voice soft and measured, "Wouldst thou truly deign to play second fiddle?"

Dahlia's response was swift but evasive. "Nonsense," she scoffed, "why would I care for such a thing? I only find him slightly intriguing." Her eyes darted back and forth, unwilling to meet Yodhe's gaze.

"..."

As the whispers of the two women intermingled, the true intent of their words was hidden. It was as if a veil of mystery hung between them, concealing their thoughts and desires.

To a certain length, Priscilla's reaction and Yonga's countenance betrayed the object of their secrecy.

"Chief, your countenance appears pale," remarked Nuu.

"Father, what ails you?" said Priscilla with concern.

"I am fine, just a little tired... Yodhe, Dahlia, let us take our leave and allow these people privacy," replied Yonga with a tired voice.

Silence enveloped them as Yonga made his exit.

"My sincerest apologies, I had kept you up for this long," said Oga. "Shall we resume our conversation tomorrow?"

"Humph," grunted Yonga as he took off without a word.

"Did I say something to offend him?" Oga inquired with confusion.

"Nothing of the sort. He just gets grumpy at times like this," reassured Yodhe

"Oh, alright then..." Oga said, no longer paying attention to the departing trio, but catching a few glances from Dahlia.

"Troublesome," mused Oga, a perceptive man who could sense the tension in the air. As Oga's mind wandered, a haunting question lingered in his thoughts, 'Does he harbor an unspeakable desire for his own flesh and blood?' The mere suggestion of such a taboo sent shivers down his spine.

Nuu's voice broke through his thoughts, "Gu Gu Gu, she seems to take a liking to you, brother."

Oga remained silent, lost in contemplation.

Nylah found amusement in observing the trio depart, bickering amongst themselves. She comprehended Oga's charm, effortlessly drawing women towards him.

She had noticed the brothers' preferences in women, with Nuu favoring those with status and children, and Oga being particularly fond of women with voluptuous backsides. Yet, unlike Nuu, he did not actively pursue them.

Nylah too had her preferences, and they were none other than the twins; a gentleman, and the other a brute.

In the wake of the Old Bastard's passing, she and Oga found solace in each other's arms, interrupted only occasionally by Myra.

Speaking of Myra, she too had to depart for the Higrave to preside over her father's funeral.

Their little fire pit became awkward with the departure of Yonga.

Margaret sensed the tense silence and decided to take the lead. "May I request the pleasure of your company?" she asked, breaking the tension with a smile.

Margaret couldn't deny the charm that Oga possessed. He exuded an air of mystery that was simply irresistible, drawing her towards him.

With a gallant gesture, Oga spoke, "It would be my utmost pleasure to accompany you back?" Margaret, graciously replied, "If it isn't too much of a bother!" As they set off towards the airship, Oga left behind a reassuring message for Nuu, "I shall return shortly, please stay awhile. We have much to iron out."

With a sly grin, Nuu leaned in and whispered, "That cunning dog, I wager he's getting some..."

Taken aback, Berta retorted, "Gosh, you're vulgar…No one will think you're mute if you kept quiet."

Unfazed by Berta's sharp words, Nuu replied with a playful retort, "Ah, but my dear Berta, that is precisely why you love me."

"Shameless," she snapped as she withdrew her hand.

Nylah offered a gracious nod, taking in the lively repartee between Berta and Nuu.

"It seems you two are hitting it off quite well," she interjected, her admiration apparent. But Berta, with a snarky comment, shot back, "This brat has his ways."

Still, Nylah's gaze lingered on Berta's hair, a vibrant hue uncommon in these parts. "I hope I'm not prying too much, but your hair..." she trailed off, her curiosity thoroughly piqued.

Berta, however, met her inquiry with a chuckle. "Ah, I was wondering when you were going to ask," she replied. "Well, you see, I'm not originally from the Khan Dynasty, so I dye my hair to blend in, you know.

As Nylah gazed at Berta's striking purple locks, she couldn't help but marvel at the way they complimented her features. "What a stunning color," she remarked, admiringly.

Berta let out a chuckle, "Can you imagine a bandit with hair like this? I wouldn't last long. Such unwanted attention. So dying my hair just became a habit until recently."

Nylah couldn't resist the urge to inquire about Berta's past. "So, you're that Berta from back then… Oga talks a lot about you."

"I bet it's nothing good, right? That snot-nosed brat still bad-mouthing me," Berta responded, teasingly.

To Nylah's surprise, she assured her that only good things were spoken of her. "You're such a terrible liar," Berta jested.

Both women shared a moment of laughter, savoring the camaraderie that had formed between them. Nylah couldn't help but acknowledge the twists and turns that life had taken her on.

"Life is indeed filled with surprises… Who would have imagined that a humble mortal like me would be in service of such extraordinary men?"

Berta's eyes danced with amusement as she fired back with a witticism. "Ha, you can say that. Who would have thought I would marry one of these brats, right?"

As if on cue, a deep sigh escape not only Berta's lips but Priscilla, as if they too had found a kindred spirit in Nylah's musings.

"You must be Priscilla?" she remarked in a low, melodious voice. "You're quite the beauty, just like your aunt!"

Priscilla, caught off guard by the compliment, flushed slightly but maintained her composure.

With downcast eyes and a modest response, she uttered, "Ah, Priscilla isn't as stunning." Such a compliment meant the world to her, for it was this very woman who had molded her into the person she had become.

Nylah's grin widened at the words, her admiration for the other woman growing.

She took in the sight of Priscilla, noting the delicate curve of her jawline, and the way her silver hair fell in soft waves around her face.

Yes, Priscilla was indeed a beauty, but Nylah couldn't help but feel that she possessed a certain allure that was all her own.

"I still haven't properly expressed my gratitude for terminating the contract, Nylah," Nuu interjected.

Pausing for a moment, Nylah then continued, "No need. We are family, after all. Just be kind to me."

An hour later, laughter fills the grassy plain, basking in the delight of each other's company.

Not long after," I hope I didn't make your wait too long," said Oga

With a knowing smirk, Nuu welcomes Oga.

"..."

With a heavy heart and a gentle tone, Oga began, "Firstly, I must express my heartfelt congratulations to you, my dear brother, on your marriage.

It is a joyous occasion and I wish you both nothing but happiness and love in your journey together."

Turning his attention to Berta, Oga's expression softened. "Berta, it has been far too long since we last spoke. My heart goes out to you in this difficult time, and I am deeply sorry for your loss." He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle in.

Berta, with a pained expression, replied softly, "Thank you, Oga. But please, let us move past this..." Though her words were measured, a hint of sadness lingered in her voice.

Oga nodded solemnly, understanding the weight of Berta's grief. "Of course, my dear friend. Let us celebrate this momentous occasion and honor those who are no longer with us in our hearts."

After a round of toast, Oga once more continues, "Fair lady Priscilla," Oga began with a bow. "I extend to you my sincerest gratitude for your affection towards my dear brother and the warm welcome of your family.

Though he may be quite the handful at times, I implore you to exercise patience and understanding with him."

Priscilla gracefully nodded, but the striking contrast between the two was as clear as day and night. Their mannerisms and speech were starkly different, with the only commonality being their physical appearance and facial features.

"Oh, no, it is Priscilla who should be grateful, my lord husband has brought color to my life," she humbly replied. Her eyes were downcast, and her voice was soft, but her words carried a sense of deep gratitude that could not be mistaken.

"I see," said Oga, his sharp eyes flickering with understanding. "Then I am happy for you both. But now, let us get to the core of our discussion - what it means to be a Thornbrick."

"Do we have to do this now, brother?" he asked, his voice tinged with annoyance.

"It can't be helped, Nuu," Oga replied firmly. "They deserve to know their rights and position within our household, so there may be no misunderstandings."