FeralHeart 229 Chapter 7

Looking down at her mug, she watched the dark liquid within it swirl as wisps of steam rose from it. She pondered over the best way to break it to her that she wasn't fooling anyone.

"You know," she finally said, "I get where you're coming from. Sometimes you have to realize that there are things at stake greater than just yourself."

Artemis raised a brow at that.

Phobos looked up. "Don't get me wrong… I'm not implying that you are some sort of egotist for not wanting to marry. There's a very real possibility that marriage would have tied you down and prevented you from doing what you want to do. But everything has two sides. Marriage could also get you your staunchest ally."

She paused. "Remember how I told you that I tried to promote to Tier 2 forcefully?"

Artemis nodded.

"Well, that was my idiotic pride getting in the way of my common sense. I knew… knew beyond a shadow of doubt that I wasn't as talented as Mars or Deimos. Still, I couldn't bring myself to admit it. Especially not to them. So, I cooped myself up in the carriage and tortured myself… if not for Husband noticing something wrong and checking up on me, I would have caused a huge incident by turning Feral and rampaging in the camp."

She paused. "We shouldn't hide our problems from the ones who really care for us. They won't think any less of us. They'll just do their best to help us out."

Casting a glance at Artemis, she found that the Princess' frown was getting more p.r.o.nounced. Taking a deep breath, she continued.

"The thing is… Me, I get jealous very easily. That always made me push myself to meet my unrealistic expectations. I saw Demi progressing so fast in her comprehension of the Aspects, I tied myself in knots about it. I saw Ceres strategizing so cleverly, I begin to feel sour about it. I watched you fight Husband, noticed your strength… and I couldn't help but envy you."

She slouched in her chair and stared into her mug again. "It actually took the death of my father and my mother being stuck with one foot in the grave for the blinds to be torn away from my eyes."

As Phobos poured her story out, she felt something within her resonate with the words.

"Now, whenever Deimos makes some progress in the martial path, or Ceres comes up with a brilliant plan, I don't think: 'That should have been me.' I think: 'Good. We're one step closer to saving mother.'

"Basically, what I want to say is that you have to realize that there are always going to be people better than you in this or that field. But… as long as they are your allies, isn't their specialization also something you can draw upon?

"It doesn't have to be you inventing the entire wheel… even if you each create a single spoke, together, you will have created the wheel."

"Why are you telling me all of this?" asked Artemis with a frown.

Phobos set aside the empty cup on the table and leaned back into her seat.

She'd be d.a.m.ned if she let the Princess go about pretending to be someone she was not. That one time with Ceres had been enough drama to last her a lifetime.

'Well, if subtlety isn't working, then I guess I'll just have to be blunt about it.'

Fixing her yellow eyes on Artemis, she said, "Because it is clear that you don't actually believe what you are saying."

Silence settled down around the two of them like a heavy pall.

Artemis looked down into her lap with her jaw and fists clenched. Then she looked up fiercely.

"Of course I am trying to convince myself. I lost to him, so I have to marry him. I'm just accepting the fact and trying to find positives in the situation. What's so wrong with that?"

She got to her feet and began pacing around.

"It's easy for you to sit there and lecture me about your philosophy. About how your low self-esteem translated to some odd realization that the collective is more important than the individual."

Spinning around in a flash of silvery wings, she strode up to Phobos and grabbed the backrest of the sofa on both sides of her head, caging her in with her arms and wings.

"While that might have gained you your Mastery, it's diametrically opposed to the philosophy I used to reach Mastery in the Aspect of Sharpness. In order to marry your Husband, I have to give up something I spent nearly two years refining.

"Please pardon me for not being happy about that!"

Phobos blinked at her in confusion. "What are you talking about? When did I Master an Aspect? And why would you have to give up Mastery to marry?"

Artemis looked at her equally confused. "You don't know?"

"Know what?!" snapped Phobos.

Letting go of the backrest of the sofa, Artemis stepped back with a deep frown.

"So, you mean to say that you don't know that you have reached Mastery in the Aspect of Darkness?"

Phobos' eyes widened. Without another word, she immediately activated her Stealth spell and closed her eyes.

Even as Artemis watched, Phobos' presence became more and more elusive before vanis.h.i.+ng altogether. She became imperceptible. Rather, even when Artemis knew that there was a girl on the sofa, her mind automatically neglected this fact.

Phobos reappeared as she cut the mana to her Stealth spell. Her eyes glinting with joy, she leapt up from her seat and hugged Artemis tightly.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you. You don't know how much this means to me."

For a moment Artemis was stunned at the sudden turn of events but when she realized what was going on, she sighed.

Phobos must have been just a hair's breadth away from the realm of Mastery before the conversation. She experienced an epiphany while talking to her and putting her recent realization to words. This had pushed her into the realm of Mastery.

Artemis couldn't help but lament her lot in life. Her Mastery of the Aspect of Sharpness was based upon her remaining undefeated in every battle. Losing to Mars had broken her Mastery permanently. She would have to master the Aspect again.

Her power had regressed.

But she had decided to power through that and slowly condition herself into accepting the marriage as there was no way she could get out of it. She planned to fake the emotions till she tricked even herself into believing them.

Her approach was always ruthless even when it came to herself.