Dimensional Descent

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When Rychard had left that day, for the first time in a long time, he almost wanted to destroy everything around him. It had taken all of his self control to leave that place with a calm smile and a nod, maintaining his image as a noble young man. But, being told that he was inadequate in the face of the woman he was courting was enough to make several of his blood vessels pop and snap.

Rychard regretted wearing the latest fashion trends now.

Much like Earth, there was a certain appeal women across the DImensional Verse got from looking at the silhouette of a man's lower body. For Leonel who liked to wear sweatpants so much, Aina had seen it many times before and had quite liked it even though she never voiced it aloud.

Rychard's robes worked much the same way and were even designed to accentuate that portion of his body both subtly and aesthetically. And yet, without so much as a filter, Aina had pointed it out without reserve or holding back.

No, she had been 'polite' enough not to say it so clearly. He was so 'grateful' for her grace. had almost wanted to say that he was a grower and not a shower, but he knew whatever last bit of face he had left would have been completely destroyed the moment he said anything to that effect. The more he thought about it, the more infuriated he became.

As though that much wasn't bad enough, after displaying her 'grace', Aina had gone on to point out several other things, saying that his jaw wasn't as sharp, that his voice wasn't as deep, she had even said that his butt wasn't as round. Yet, he had had to stand there and take it from start to finish.

It took Rychard several days to calm himself, but he had returned everyday to hear Aina's 'scrutiny', only to come back to his estate more and more dejected. He should have been entering the happiest phase of his life, but instead he was having his ego stamped down one 'polite' insult after another.

He was so caught off guard by these things that he hadn't even registered that Aina said that her ex boyfriend was more talented than he was, too wrapped up in the other more deliberate blows to his ego.

Rychard forgot all the ridiculous tricks he had used to try to get Aina to change her mind, but the ending of each was more painful than the last.

"There's something to be said about just feeling good and doing what's right in the moment, right? I believe that everyone should be free." Rychard spoke with a light smile.

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"Feeling good is an easy way to get swept up in indulgence." Aina replied. "Plus, such talk of freedom would only work if I was a man. My reproductive burden is higher than yours and it will also make it more difficult for me to find an appropriate husband should I indulge due to the widely accepted societal norms.

"In addition to this, a woman feeling good isn't necessary for copulation and birthing the next generation, it is only an added bonus and is not as important as other things. It will be the last thing I consider.

"This is a good thing for you, though. It would be impossible for you to make me feel better than him."

Rychard left that day almost coughing up blood.

…

"What do you like in a man?" Rychard asked.

"I like a man who can take charge and protect me. Unfortunately, you lost points in this aspect by sending me on a dangerous mission you didn't want to do yourself.

"You are too cunning and too scholarly. You have no edge to you and you lack a kingly air. You would rather be on the backline of a battlefield than on the front line and that's not very attractive.

"However, that doesn't mean you don't have redeeming qualities. After all, I love to battle. So, if I have your child, you can stay home to rear and guide them while I fight. I can give you half a mark for that."

He tried everything but nothing seemed to move her in the slightest. In fact, it only buried him into a deeper and deeper hole. By now, it had been half a month of this and it only seemed to get worse everyday. By this point, whatever attraction he had for Aina had whittled down to a pure and condensed rage as though he would sooner stab her through the heart than walk down an aisle with her.

Rychard's hands clasped together hard over his desk as he slowly attempted to regain his bearings. He took deep breaths causing the vibrations of the room to cool down bit by bit.

Right then, there was a knock at the door.

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He looked up and unclenched his fingers, patting down whatever wrinkles might have appeared on his robes.

"Come in."

Rychard was expecting a normal servant, but what he actually saw left his pupils constricted into pinholes.

A skinny middle aged man no thicker than a broom's pole entered with light steps. He had a thick mustache on his upper lip and aftershave covering the rest of his face in a thin shadow. His head, though, was completely bald.

Rychard recognized this man immediately and shot up to his feet. He was none other than the current head of the oldest Vassal family their Viola family had and was probably the most trusted aid the of the current family Head: Vassal Obrien.

"Vassal Obrien, please forgive this junior for his rudeness."

Vassal Obrien looked Rychard up and down before chuckling. "No need to be so stiff, young one. I've come with good news."

Rychard's heart sped up. Was it that time already? Would he be officially appointed?

"They're coming."

These words weren't what Rychard wanted to hear the most, but it could be said they were most definitely the second thing he wanted to hear the most.

They had known for a long time that Myghell had purposely held back from entering the Sixth Dimension and that he had a purpose for doing so… It seemed like it was time.

'This is an opportunity, one that no one would want to give up. I'll see how she escapes from my palm now.'

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