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When Alessia was little, she remembered a time when her nannies and caretakers were the windows through which she saw the world.

How easy it was to look at a distant father climb up the steps of the temple to the clamor of a crowd, and feel that a reason for admiration manifested itself there. How easy it was to rationalize the duty passed down through their blood when it explained all wrongs and all slights. How easy to believe that the harsh words and harsh lessons when she did finally catch his time and efforts were cause for joy and not a caravan of never-ending disappointment.

When did her image of her father start to melt, she wondered? The Temple idols were melted down only to be recast when tarnish or age made them unworthy of representing the higher powers they called. But when would her father turn around and say the words, do the deeds, that would retroactively justify him being who he was? When could she look at him again, in silk-clad splendor, and see the figure she admired as a little girl?

Perhaps there was a touch of necessary bitterness here that she was too young to appreciate. Yes, perhaps, even, she was washing away all the good he’d done and had to offer when she took his worst actions and let that color the rest of their lives.

Perhaps the fact that he wasn’t as good as he demanded Alessia herself be was the point, and he only desired that she were better instead.

All the same, that would only mean that Alessia’s father wanted her to be what he wished he was.

And Alessia, at this length, being this close to being a Priestess herself…saw nothing attractive in fulfilling that graven image.

Unmarried, apprenticed and “unresponsible” as she was, what she ought to have done when her “friend” went running was to return to her house at once. Because, yes, she could well guess that’s where Chiara was going. It made a sick amount of sense; Alessia had not told her that she knew of Chiara and her father, but it wasn’t hard to connect the dots.

And if that was what was at stake, why not go on the attack now instead of being on the defensive in the future?

Their friendship was already breaking down, would Chiara allow her affair with Alessia’s father to end too?

Young as Alessia was, she could have saved herself a lot of trouble if she went back right away. If she showed even the barest inkling of “propriety” once discovered, displaying humility that could be salvaged.

If she acknowledged that she could do no right and that her father was right about her.

So she arrived a few hours into the morning, after having looked for a few more crew members of The Marin all night.

Sadly, Alessia found no luck for the rest of that night. Parties or not, everyone got tired eventually and these celebrations were also stressful for the mariners of a blessed ship. It was no wonder that they had retired for the night.

Honestly, it was for this reason alone that Alessia, that night, returned home at all.

“Oh, honey,” Frija, her mother, was waiting for her by the door.

“I know,” Alessia immediately replied. She’d gone over the line this time. A grand feat, no doubt, given where her father set his lines, “I know, Mom. Believe me, I am quite familiar with how this goes.”

“My yellow rose…yes, I suppose you would be,” Frija sighed.

“You didn’t have to wait for me, Mom,” Alessia said, “You didn’t have to spoil your rest on my behalf.”

“Nothing to spoil, hon,” Frija assured her, “Hard to sleep when you expect your bed to sway and it just doesn’t.”

“Frija?” Alessia’s father chose that moment to call out, “I hear voices. Is that Alessia?”

“Just a second!” Frija called back.

Then she leaned enough that her forehead was touching her daughter’s.

“I’ve talked with the other Elders,” the blond woman whispered, “You’ll be Priestess within a year.”

Alessia could feel the breath of her mother touching her cheeks. She could feel the closeness of her body to hers.

By torch light, she could even see inside the valley of her flesh mountains.

And then her mother uttered words with so much affection that it made Alessia feel ashamed of herself, “My little Torchbearer.”

“It won’t be long,” she quickly whispered, “Just abide it a bit more.”

Alessie ground her teeth, because there were very few things that her mother could have said that stung less, but she managed to hold her tongue.

“Please, mistress,” one of the servants appeared at the door, “The master calls.”

“Augh, that man,” Frija straightened again and rubbed her brow, “Thankfully, your friend was kind enough to wait here for you.”

Her mother was smiling at her.

Her mother was smiling at her, expecting Alessia to smile back.

She thought this was good news.

She thought that this would soften the blow of this incoming argument.

“Alessia?” Frija’s smile slipped out and Alessia realised she was snarling.

“It’s fine, Mom,” Alessia walked past her mom and into the house.

Arriving at her parent’s bedroom was the work of half a minute.

“Everything is just fine.”

Without knocking, without announcing her presence, Alessia simply opened the door.

And caught sight of her father moving away from her “friend”.

“What are you doing?” The Anax of Tritos snarled.

“I am answering your summons, father,” Alessia replied.

“Without announcing yourself?” his voice went to a higher pitch.

“She is with me, love,” Frija slipped in at that moment, “It’s fine, really.”

“She is about to be a Priestess,” he spat, “she should know manners!”

“Neoklis,” Frija sounded confused, “She is with me. Would you rather I, too, announce myself into my own bedroom?”

Alessia’s father opened his mouth and then, with a huff of breath, closed it again.

“No, I suppose not,” he took a chair in his room and offered it to Frija’s “best friend”, “But your daughter shamed us all last night. Priority is precisely what we need to talk about.”

“What-” he extended his forefinger squarely at Alessia’s face, “Do you have to say for yourself?”

Alessia, for a second, had been lost glaring at the girl sleeping with her father. Chiara did not meet her eyes and nervously drummed her fingers into her chair, but the question from Alessia’s father finally brought her to the task at hand.

Luckily for Alessia, she had all night to plan for this question.

“I simply sat on a woman’s lap,” Alessia beautifully said, “With our bodies fully clad in our clothes in public, where anyone might attest our chastity.”

She knew how this was going to go, so she couldn’t even summon the seriousness that this required. What choice did she have but to be facetious about the whole thing?

“Many are the witnesses you can ask,” Alessia clasped her hands, her eyes only wandering to her friend again for a brief second, “Who’ll tell you that I did not debouche myself.”

Though, given the conversation she was having, maybe she should have.

At least then, she would have earned this.

“See?” Frija, despite Alessia’s tone, backed her, “It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“Not as bad as it sounds?” Alessia’s father incredulously said, “She was in a tavern. Her, a future priestess, was soiling the same soles she would step into a temple with a tavern!”

Sanctity was, technically, the greatest concern a priest might have. Sanctity was, above all else, respect for the gods. As it was their alleged calling a priest had to be a model man or woman to properly show people the way.

But on bacchanal nights, ones where all of the city celebrated, there was no difference between the streets outside and the oiliest tavern. And very little difference between the homes of patrons and hostels.

So long as she did not become inebriated, so long as her virginity was still intact, she could have danced, she could have drunk, she could have even sucked cock.

And it would not have mattered.

She knew this because that is precisely what some of the other Elders did.

“Oh, but that’s not the worst of it,” Alessia’s father told her mother.

“I have it sworn that she was rubbing her ass into the crotch of another woman,” once again, he pointed at her.

Now it was time for Frija to open her mouth and close it.

She looked helplessly at Alessia.

“Forgive me, Father,” Alessia bowed her head.

“I’ll make sure I am in a bush somewhere in the countryside next time I do that.”

Chiara and Sigurd gasped as a hard slap sounded in the room and, all of a sudden, Alessia was looking to the side.

This was…the first time her father had ever struck her in the face.

“Do not-” he very seriously told her, “Mock me.”

Alessia put a hand to her stinging cheek and felt a strange sourness in her stomach. As if all of her frustration was coming to a boil.

“Forgive me, father,” Alessia dutifully said and even nodded her head. There was, however, no point in crying, “It’s unseemly of me to be flippant.”

“And you expect to be a Priestess when you are like that,” her father spat.

“Go to your room. The festival is over for you.”

And that…is when something overflowed inside of her.

“Thank you, father,” Alessia smiled at her father, “I will go do that right away.”

So she turned foot and exited her parent’s room.

Then she exited her home.

“Alessia?” she heard her mother call, “Alessia!”

But Alessia did not respond.

A Meet of the Elders was a thing held as often as it was needed. At the very least, it was traditionally done every time the Marin came ashore, but it could be done multiple times in a year. After having spent a day talking to the local Anax, her father in this case, they would spend some time paying their respects in the temple.

Alessia should have been made a Priestess a year ago, honestly. She knew this, the Elders knew this, and even the other priests knew this.

Her father was the sole reason why she hadn’t, and even that resistance wasn’t capable of staying her anointing for long. She was going to be made Priestess this year because this was as far as he could waylay it.

Which made, in truth, his acceptance pointless.

An accusation done in front of witnesses, cast before the gods, was not something even the Anax could just shrug off.

Especially when made by his daughter.

Not when it was about adultery. Not when his wife was a Torch Captain.

Alessia was going to reveal the true character of her father for others to see, and there was not a damned thing he could do about-

“Alessia?” a familiar voice asked.

A voice made Alessia realize she was already walking through the forum of the city. The week of partying was half way done, but commerce normality was already starting to intrude into it. While drunkards sat and leaned against walls, sleeping the alcohol away, people were starting to set up their stalls and people were coming to buy from them.

Among all of this early morning throng, Allesia looked around and quickly found Chloe.

The mother of the woman she hoped to marry.

Chloe was a 32-year-old woman who had given Chiara her face and her tits. But in all other regards? They couldn’t be more different.

The woman was actually shorter than her daughter, being a single inch over 5 feet. But, despite being petite, she was not “slight” at all: her birth-widened hips flared her sides. Her stomach was matronly, having a bit of chub but not enough to really be called “fat”. Her ass pushed the back of her dress while her bare arms showed sun-bronzed skin.

There was a line here and there in the corner of her eyes, despite her youth. But none of that had ever stopped Alessia from being attracted to her.

At that moment, however, that exact face was the last thing Alessia wanted to see.

“I am busy, fishmonger” she hissed, already walking around the older woman. The woman gasped and Alessia started to put her out of her mind.

But someone grabbed the sleeve of her tunic.

And it was the mother of the girl who had led her on.

“I’ve seen you in a while, miss,” her grab was insistent, “And I understand important people like yourself have important things to do.”

“But please,” she pleaded, “You know my home is not far off and I finally have good wine to offer guests.”

“Won’t you let me at least dust your feet off?”

That face.

Those eyes.

Alessia felt such anger.

But when was the last time Chiara had looked at her like that? Well, done so and actually meant it?

“...not more than a cup,” Alessia deflated and the happy smile in the woman’s face was like a palm that knocked the froth from the cup in Alessia’s heart, “And I’ll quickly be away..”

The Elders were going to be in the Temple all day, after all.

—--------------------

“You know,” Chloe said as she spread some spices over a promised cup of wine, “Being able to host someone of your standing like this isn’t something someone like could have ever dared dream before!”

“That’s good,” Alessia lamely said as she sat in a chair that she hadn’t seen in years.

Her studies and her apprenticeship devoured a good deal of her personal time. And when those hadn’t, her father had all but tried to fill with his personal demands. If it weren’t for Chiara’s unstoppable insistence, Alessia did not know that she would even have a personal life.

That was how she knew that things were going well for Chiara’s mother, a widow who had struggled as a fishmonger for the longest time.

But she was not struggling now.

The chair might have been the same, the table might have been the old one, and the inhabitant might have just gotten a bit older, but this was not a one-room shack anymore.

Chloe and her daughter now lived in a house walled by bricks, separated by walls and roofed with tiles.

Even the hearth was the sort that those who worked in the crafts would have, rather than the fisherwoman that Chloe truly was.

Everywhere Alessia looked, she saw the favor of her father sculpted into the walls.

…she should not have come.

“It is fantastic!” Chloe agreed and put a cup in front of her. It had grounded herbs floating on the top of the red drink, floating and bubbing with the waves of the liquid as it settled down.

Alessia took a sip.

And it was good.

She still hated it.

“I always knew you were bound for greatness, miss,” Chloe took a chair across from her, “If you don’t mind me saying so.”

“Yes, the daughter of a high priest reaching high places,” Alessia grunted, “Who would have thought?”

“Believe it or not, aristocia,” the short woman shook her head, “It was more than that.”

“Most of the rich sons and daughters that I have met go about through life like I do,” Chloe took a sip of the drink and breathed with enjoyment as it went down, “But not you.”

“Yes, something that can be safely attributed to my father,” Alessia snorted and drained the cup in one go. This praise was sickening her.

“Thank you for the drink,” she put the cup on the table and got up.

In retrospect, it had been foolish to allow herself to be compelled to come here.

“The expectations of the Anax are quite high,” rather than stop Alessia, Chloe simply acknowledged, “But you were intense to the point of being intimidating even before he set to make the road before you. I could see it back then and so could Chiara..”

“I suppose that might be why Chiara chose your father over you.”

Alessia stopped.

“What?” Alessia asked as her eyes bore into Chloe.

“It was either you or him,” Chloe told her.

“You knew?” Alessia hissed.

“In many regards, Chiara is a much more magnificent woman than I,” Chloe gave her a mirthless smile, “Does it help if I say that the idea wasn’t mine?”

Despite asking that, she didn’t give Alessia time to answer, “Of course not.”

“Because I still benefited from it.” she nodded

The short woman looked around her house, “And I still continue to benefit.”

“20 years of straining my back at sea, and yet it was my daughter who brought us out of poverty,” she chuckled darkly.

“I guess what I am trying to say is that…I am sorry,” Chloe bowed her head.

Alessia could only stare at her.

“You-is this an attempt at-no, but then why-we-” Alessia trailed off as she fit this whole thing into the things she knew.

If she not only knew that Alessia knew that her father was fucking her daughter, but also of their fallout that very morning…then this appeasement would make sense.

The former point alone would not have been urgent because Chiara had effectively bound herself with Alessia’s father; the Anax’s favor was infinitely more valuable than his daughter’s enmity.

And the latter point was impossible for her to know.

So then-

“You are serious,” Alessia stated, “You are actually sorry?”

There was a brief moment after that.

“I know it’s not much,” Chloe also got up from her chair, “but if you ever need anything-”

“It’s fine!” Alessia cut her off, “It’s…it is what it is.”

“This is my problem to solve,” she shook her head.

A handful of Elders in the Temple of Tritos and an accusation that would do a lot to ruin her father.

Her plan wasn’t particularly difficult to execute.

“Maybe,” Chloe still rushed around the table to grab her sleeve, as if she could stop Alessia from leaving if she wanted to, “But I must still make the offer. A favor from me, that only I can do, if and when you feel you have need of it.”

With her hand like that, it wasn’t hard for Alessia’s eyes to start drifting to her neck, where her white skin showed where she wasn’t tan.

“Anything?” Alessia, damn her libido, found herself asking.

“Anything,” Chloe assured her.

“A single favor?” Alessia asked.

“Even if-” Alessia was getting hot.

“Even if…it were a kiss?”

Chloe's eyes widen.

“I mean, I-I suppose you still have a cock despite being a girl,” the short woman flushed, “and it would be only that, right?”

She could push this, Alessia realized.

She could do her.

She just needed to say the words.

But, instead, she took a deep breath.

“It was but a hypothetical, ma'am,” Alessia said.

“Hypo-really?” Chloe blinked.

Then she laughed.

“Please don’t pull me around just because I am a widow,” she rubbed into Alessia’s hip with her elbow, “But keep in mind what I said.”

“If you ever need me I am yours.”

Alessia left the house by the coast.

The sound of waves crashed with the movement of trees as the sun still climbed into the sky.

A whole night of walking around and now the afternoon saw her without having gotten a blink of sleep.

The matter with her father was still in her mind but all of her other plans and hopes, the desire to go outside like her mother, begged themselves to be considered.

For once, it appeared her libido had saved her because, really.

What would she gain if it were her who revealed her father’s transgressions?