"This was amazing," whispered Felicia, cuddling up beside Baron Varn, resting her face on his chest. "Thank you, love."
"You know what else is amazing?" he said softly. "You are."
For a little while, they indulged in blissful idleness, holding onto each other. The baron treasured these stolen minutes they spent like normal people, free from the burden of a state's governance on their shoulders. And hell, he needed a good few minutes of rest. Ever since the Hazel affair, it often took a long time and a lot of tender, loving effort to get Felicia to the peak. Of course, he didn't mind giving her his best and more, but it still worried him. It meant she hadn't forgiven herself and moved on, and that was a dangerous state for a paladin to be in. (Alternatively, it could mean she had him in her arms but Hazel on her mind, but he refused to consider this possibility.)
They'd had their deep conversation and tearful reconciliation, and honestly, Maegar couldn't hate her for what she'd done, however it hurt his pride. Hazel had played into her insecurities masterfully, exploiting her vulnerability, and elves were hard to resist if they applied themselves. Had Guelder made the slightest attempt to seduce him, he, too, would have been in for a hell of a struggle.
Most importantly, though, Felicia still wanted to be with him. Nothing else mattered.
And there she was, unable to stay put for more than five minutes. She opened her eyes, kissed him, and climbed out of bed to pick up their clothes scattered on the floor. His gaze followed her every move, drinking in the sight of her, and he almost felt ready for a second round... but no. He needed a little more rest. Or a lot more workout. The sedentary lifestyle was getting to him.
As she shook his jerkin into shape and arranged it on the back of a chair, an envelope slipped out of its pocket. The broken seal depicted a pair of leopards facing each other. Nightvale's coat of arms. She remained standing, her gaze fixed on it, and he could tell that bile was flooding her brain.
"Feel free to read it, love," he said from the bed. "In fact, do it here, by my side. I want to hold you for a little longer."
Perhaps it wasn't an entirely good idea to disrupt their work-life balance with confidential consultations after making love, but it was a handy way to deter old Cephal from listening in on conversations not meant for his ears.
Felicia wiggled back under the blanket, pressing her back against his side, propped herself up on an elbow, and opened the letter. It was an invitation to a monster hunting event organised by Baroness Guelder, penned in a practised, professional hand (probably Linzi's), so different from the angular, heavy-handed letters of the signature.
"So what?" she asked wearily. "Do we want to send a delegation?"
"Sure thing. It's our duty."
"Huh? Is it in the treaty? I don't remember any obligation to take part in entertainment organised by the other party."
"There is trouble brewing in Nightvale."
"What makes you think so? If I were in trouble, I wouldn't be organising festivals."
"Except if you wanted to mobilise your potential allies without advertising your weakness to everyone around. Guelder must be facing a serious monster situation."
"More serious than what we have, likely thanks to her?"
"What?"
Felicia rolled off the bed and went to reclaim her shirt, as if armouring herself against frustration. Every single move of her body radiated resentment.
"You haven't read my last report."
Not again...
"Gods, love, I'm so sorry," he muttered.
"When will you start to care, Maegar? What will it take, if Arno's death wasn't enough?"
The baron left her to her anger for a little while, trying in vain to think up a way to defuse the situation. One thing was certain. Sex wouldn't work now.
"I didn't want to recall it all right now," said Felicia, her voice trembling with suppressed anger and anxiety. "But now it's too late, it's already there in my head again. If I could dream, I would relive it every night and wake you up with my screams. Read that godsdamned report, now. I'm waiting."
She leant against the mantelpiece of the fireplace, glaring at him.
There was nothing else he could do. He dug out the document from under a stock of papers on his desk and read it to the last letter, just to share the burden Felicia carried. Whatever she said, just because he preferred oral communication, that didn't mean he didn't care.
It was not a pleasant read. He was aware of the findings in the cabin and the outcome of the fight from accounts of the squad and Felicia herself. What he hadn't expected was the bitter hate coming through her letters, as she blamed Nightvale for the situation and suggested introducing a heightened state of alert on the western border. Almost as if she'd taken Cephal's side. Could a single seduction attempt poison a pure heart this badly?
He had to tread lightly. Lashing out would only make it worse.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
"Do we know where that family in the hut came from?" he wondered.
"I asked around at the nearby settlements, but nobody knew of any of their numbers gone missing. They might have been travellers."
"From Nightvale?"
"That's a possibility."
"Fleeing to the mountains to escape from an invasion of monsters?"
Felicia pursed her lips and didn't answer. The baron held her gaze, waiting for it all to sink in.
"You got a taste of what the Nightvale people might be facing," he said softly. "Do you still think we shouldn't get involved? Ideally before more monsters spill over to our territory?"
"Do you still think we have no reason to guard the western border more vigilantly?" retorted Felicia, now a little uncertain.
"Against monsters or refugees?"
"We must be ready for both. The treaty requires us to accommodate refugees if the need arises. We'd better start supplying the border settlements with temporary shelters and manpower, and reinforcing our mountain ranger units in case more monsters appear. And don't forget the third watchtower."
"As if you ever let me forget the third watchtower for more than two minutes," sighed the baron.
Suddenly, he got an idea. It was a dangerous gambit in more than one regard, but one that might help give his ally some meaningful support and his fiancée a chance to reevaluate her biases. He walked over to Felicia and put his arms around her waist, looking deep into her eyes of molten gold.
"Fine, General. Let's make a deal. You can have your third watchtower, and in exchange, you will lead Varnhold's delegation on the Big Fancy Monster Hunt of Nightvale."
Her body stiffened, as if bitten by a snake.
"No."
He smiled reassuringly, deploying his most suggestive gaze. She usually couldn't resist that.
"You're good at manticores. How many did you kill again? Three of eight, right?"
"Still, no."
"We'll have no better opportunity to strengthen our ties to Nightvale."
"Hazel will be there."
"I don't care. I trust you, Felicia. You're an adult, with an extremely sensitive conscience. You will know what to do and what to avoid."
It was a frightening leap of faith, but he had to do it. She had to face temptation once again and defeat it, so that she could redeem herself and find forgiveness in her own heart. And if she failed... Well, he would have to learn to live with that.
"You could send anyone else."
"You're the best I have to offer."
"And Baroness Guelder deserves the best," she sneered.
The baron inhaled deeply.
"I can't win here, can I?" he sighed. "Listen, Felicia, I want you to go because I'm afraid Cephal would attempt something behind my back, either directly or indirectly. You know how he always pesters me to try and get my hands on Nightvale. If the baroness gets killed in a hunting accident... Which cannot happen if you're there. I know you'll go the extra mile to protect her, like a real guardian angel, regardless of your mixed feelings about her. "
He feared the next question. If you don't trust Cephal, why do you still keep him by your side? However, Felicia's brain was on a different track.
"Would you prefer me to be killed in a hunting accident?"
"Excuse me?"
She extricated herself from his embrace, and began pacing up and down across the bedchamber.
"Obviously, someone high up in Nightvale wants me out of the way. On the night of the summit, Hazel didn't simply act on their libido. They wanted you to banish me from your sight, or worse. Now that it didn't work, the next logical step would be to feed me to a pack of manticores or whatever they have over there. Or to direct a wayward arrow into my back."
"You don't have to go alone. You can take your honour guard, or a full squad of six, whichever you prefer. They will protect you with their lives. And Guelder knows very well that if she lets you come to any harm, no treaty will save her from my wrath. I swear to Desna I'll avenge every drop of your blood."
He embraced her, letting her rest her face on his shoulder. Her tense muscles slowly relaxed, and she hugged him back. He held her tight, putting all the disturbing thoughts out of her mind... or so he hoped. Minutes went by. He didn't expect an answer anymore, just indulged in the warmth of her body.
"Will you accept the answer I'm going to give?" she whispered. "Regardless if you like it or not?"
"I will."
"Then my answer is yes. I will do it. For you, and also for myself."
"You have my thanks, love."
Their lips met in a soft kiss. He could tell that Felicia was just as relieved as he was. Now that the decision had been made, her brain switched to task planning mode. Too bad. He had different plans. They had already wasted too much time politicking.
"It's two weeks away, right?" she said, half to herself. "One week should be more than enough to fix the issues around Old Stump Village. I'll get that task out of the way as soon as possible, then... oh... oohhh..."
He silenced her with a long, passionate kiss, and gently directed her back to the bed, eager to take her mind off the worries of border defence.