"Malek has good taste," I replied, earning a satisfied growl from my mate.
Leone’s expression sobered.
"Thank you for joining us." He extended his hand toward Malek in a gesture that once would have been unthinkable between an orc and a High Fae.
"It is Fiona’s war," Malek replied, gripping Leone’s hand firmly. "Therefore, it is ours."
Their handshake lasted only a moment, yet it sealed an alliance centuries in the making.
"Good," Leone said. "Let’s discuss the plan."
He spread a map of Lyraen across a flat stone. Dense forest covered most of the land, broken only by Ceilte’s territory and the mountains of An Teallach. To the southwest, the fortress of Brathadair marked our destination, surrounded by the golden woods of the Autumn Court.
The plan was straightforward. The High Fae would advance from the northwest while the orcs formed the forward assault line. Brathadair—capital of the Autumn Court—stood upon a rocky hill surrounded by towering walls. Its magical defenses were legendary, capable of absorbing and dispersing fae magic with frightening efficiency.
A direct assault would fail.
And that was not our goal.
"Fenric must have warned Faélán about the risk of retaliation," Leone said, tapping the map with his dagger. "Their defenses will be fully prepared, and the Autumn Court’s elite guard is among the strongest in Lyraen."
"Our warriors thrive in close combat," Malek answered. "Strength and endurance are our advantage. We will be the shield."
"I agree," I said. "However…"
I bit my lip, thoughts racing. A direct battle would be costly, even with the element of surprise. Grìosach held the full power of a Court. Even united, Ceilte and Oksha might struggle to secure victory.
Political consequences weighted just as heavily. An attack against a Court would echo across all of Lyraen.
I voiced every concern aloud.
"What do you suggest?" Leone asked thoughtfully.
"A trade," I answered. "Our alliance and loyalty in exchange for Alasdair’s safe return."
"Ceilte has always remained neutral," he pointed out.
"Yes—until their sovereign was taken," I countered. "Even the other Courts will recognize that neutrality has been broken."
"They also harbor a traitor," Malek added, gaze fixed on the map. "Fenric will use every scrap of influence he holds."
"Which is why our approach must be diplomatic—but strong," I replied, pointing toward a strategic ridge. "Wewill demand negotiation. Once Faélán steps forward, we gain leverage."
"And if they refuse?" Malek asked, fingers tightening around his axe handle.
"Then we show them that Ceilte is no longer neutral," I said, meeting his gaze. "And that unity between orcs and High Fae is stronger than any coup."
Leone nodded, approval flashing in his eyes.
"I will present myself as heir of Ceilte. That grants me the authority to negotiate alliances in my father’s name. You and Malek will stand beside me as emissaries of Oksha."
"And if this becomes a trap?" Lord Alaric asked. The older noble looked deeply uneasy among the orcs.
"If it is a trap," Malek replied, voice low and dangerous, "you will witness something history has never seen—orc and High Fae fighting as one."
The promise carried both threat and certainty. Alaric paled but nodded without protest.
"What about Fenric?" I asked. "He started all of this."
