“You are late,” the Baroness repeated, pointing at the chairs. “Sit.”
Lucy muttered under her breath as she sat.
“More importantly,” the Baroness said, sipping her tea, “I heard the news that Lupin is preparing to travel to Kraggmar. Took your father and brother long enough to finally agree to the political marriage.”
“Marriage?” Esther sputtered, her fingers tightening in her lap. “To the orc kingdom surrounded by jagged peaks?”
Kraggmar.
The name alone summoned half-remembered images from her childhood lessons, jagged volcanic mountains clawing into stormy skies, and fortresses carved directly from obsidian cliffs. Orc culture valued strength, honor, and endurance. Esther valued… embroidery and crying quietly in hallways. Not exactly a promising cultural fit.
Somewhere in Basil’s endless scrolls, she had seen maps of Kraggmar’s northern valleys, howling with winter winds even in summer. Their king, stern, seasoned, rumored to have united the fractured clans decades ago, was respected across continents.
But to Esther, this didn’t feel like an alliance at all.
It felt like exile wrapped in ceremonial brocade.
“Oh, it appears I spoke out of turn. Act as if I said nothing.”
“You can’t just pretend you didn’t say anything!” Lucy shouted, slamming the table.
“Manners!”
“You can’t just pretend you didn’t say anything,” Lucy repeated, this time in a far more appropriate tone.
“But I didn’t say anything.”
“Did you—did she—oh, she’s a demon. A vile demon,” Lucy seethed.
“Well, look at the time. It’s getting late. Let us meet again tomorrow, after you talk with your father.”
Esther didn’t wait for another word. She raced down the hall, leaving Lucy to deal with the sputtering Baroness.
She imagined jagged peaks clawing at storm clouds, and the sharp, iron scent of the forges that crafted orcish armor, the complete opposite of Valedara, with its lush forests and clear rivers streaming through valleys.
She stood outside her father’s study, gathering the courage to knock. She wanted answers.
The council meetings had been changing lately. Esther could feel it in the way advisors bowed more quickly, spoke more quietly, and glanced at her for longer. Something had shifted in Valedara, something her father refused to name.
Lupin, despite his awkwardness, had begun to carry himself differently, too. Straighter posture. Sharper eyes. As if he knew more than he wished he did, as if he bore secrets heavier than armor.
Her father… he had always been distant, but lately, he looked exhausted. Not physically, but in the way people look when they are losing battles no one else can see.
Esther pressed closer to the door.
She didn’t want to be a pawn.
She just wanted to know.
Just as she was about to knock, her father’s deep voice penetrated the thick door. “This is the only secure way to establish our alliance with Kraggmar.”
Esther froze. She could barely make out the muffled voices beyond the door and seized the opportunity. She pressed her ear against the wall, straining to focus on the conversation.
“Isn’t this marriage a bit too sudden?” Lupin asked in a hushed tone.
“We’re out of time. Our borders won’t last much longer,” her father said, his words cold and final. “We need this union. Now.”
The air crackled around her, magic biting at her fingertips. This was a conversation she was not meant to hear. Just like always, it was about her, with no room for her voice.
