Page 12

I stop Valeria behind a pillar, out of Sarith’s immediate line of sight. “Go. Convince him of your usefulness, glean the schedule, and return to me. I’ll observe from nearby.”

She nods, exhaling. “All right.”

With that, she steps forward, weaving into the flow of workers. I slip around the corridor, finding a vantage point behind a partial wall. From here, I can watch Sarith and Valeria through the gaps in the crates stacked along the side.

Valeria straightens her tunic, adopting a mild, helpful demeanor. She picks up a stray ledger from a box and approaches Sarith. I can’t hear every word, but I see her lips move in a polite greeting. Sarith doesn’t even glance up at first, scrawling in his own ledger.

She tries again, tilting her head in an ingratiating manner. Sarith’s gaze snaps up, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. He mouths something—likely “Who are you?”

Valeria smiles, a touch deferential, and gestures to the ledger in her hands. Her posture conveys subservience, but her eyes remain keen. I watch as she points to a crate, possibly offering to help with inventory. Sarith scowls, tapping his quill impatiently.

A lesser slave might shrink away, but Valeria stands firm. She sets the ledger down, flipping a page as though referencing an item. Sarith leans closer, intrigued or perhaps just suspicious.

She gestures again, steps to the side, and nods at a stack of sealed boxes. He follows her gaze, muttering something, and waves a dismissive hand. But he isn’t dismissing her entirely—he’s explaining, possibly clarifying what’s in those crates. That’s a start.

I shift for a better view. Valeria moves around the table, asking questions with feigned innocence.

Sarith grumbles, pointing to an entry in his ledger.

She nods politely, inching the conversation forward.

Her expression is a careful blend of humility and curiosity, as if she’s just another human assigned to help with menial tasks.

I can’t make out her exact words, but her gestures indicate she’s leading him to discuss shipping routes.

Sarith stiffens, suspicion flashing in his eyes.

He steps back, crossing his arms. Valeria remains calm, or at least she appears that way.

I see her shoulders relax, her face adopting a thoughtful frown as if she’s only concerned with missing supplies.

Then she speaks again, pointing at the next page.

Sarith’s gaze flicks to the crate labeled in bold runic script, the one that’s likely scheduled to leave soon.

He shakes his head, as if unsure. Valeria cants her head, the picture of polite confusion.

After a beat, he finally exhales and scribbles something in the margins, possibly confirming a date or time.

A grim smile curls on my lips. She’s close.

Her shoulders shift in a subtle gesture of relief, and she offers him a quick, grateful nod. Sarith scowls, but he doesn’t tear up the ledger or send her away. Instead, he mutters something that looks like a final warning. She bows slightly, stepping back from the table.

That’s my cue. I quietly retreat from my hidden vantage, slipping around the corner. Moments later, Valeria emerges, carefully holding the ledger. She spots me at the end of the corridor, and her eyes flicker with triumph.

We walk away from the storeroom, putting enough distance between us and Sarith to avoid eavesdroppers. Once we reach a quiet alcove, I turn to her. “Well?”

She offers me the ledger, opened to a page with runic notes. “He was reluctant, but I got him talking about an apparent shortage in goods. He mentioned a shipment leaving three nights from now, at the second moon’s rise.”

I skim the runes. Sure enough, Sarith scrawled a date and time next to the crate references. A quiet satisfaction coils in my chest. “You managed this in under ten minutes?”

She exhales, tension draining from her expression. “He’s testy, but not immune to a bit of harmless confusion. I just acted like I was trying to reconcile inventory, and he slipped up by confirming exactly when that crate is due to depart.”

I nod, returning the ledger. “Impressive. You adapted to his moods, feigned ignorance. He never suspected you were anything but a clueless servant.”

A small smile tugs at her lips. “It’s easy enough to play clueless. I’ve been doing it for years with the dark elves.”

I study her face, a swirl of approval and something else stirring inside me. This was a minor test, but she passed with skill. “Very well. This proves you can glean information with subtlety, if not under real danger. You’ll need to build on that.”

She nods, eyes glinting with a mix of relief and pride. “I will.”

I find myself stepping closer, lowering my voice. “Well done, Valeria.”

A strange flicker passes between us, a silent acknowledgment that this success is a step toward forging trust. Neither of us dares speak it, but the tension in the air is undeniable. Her gaze drops to my mouth, then darts away. Careful.

I clear my throat, stepping back. “Return that ledger. Then get some rest. You’ve done enough for today.”

She dips her head, lingering a heartbeat longer than necessary. “Thank you.”

I watch her walk off, ledger tucked against her side. The sway of her steps betrays a weariness from training, yet also a confidence that wasn’t there yesterday. Good. She’s growing into her role.

Once she disappears around the corner, I release a slow breath.

My debate isn’t settled—trust is a lofty commodity—but today’s performance tilts the scales in her favor.

She’s cunning enough to glean critical details in a matter of minutes.

With the right guidance, she could thrive among the dark elves, plucking secrets before they ever realize she’s a threat.

But my mother is right : if Valeria falters, or if she betrays us, I must discard her. There’s no room for half-measures in this conflict.

Still, I can’t deny a flicker of anticipation at the thought of seeing how far she can go. The defiance in her eyes, the quiet intelligence in her words—like a puzzle I’m both creating and solving. In time, I may discover her true limits.

For now, I allow myself a measured smile. She’s passed the first test. Many more lie ahead, and I intend to push her to the brink. One way or another, we’ll discover if she can become the weapon House Draeven needs—or if her spark of promise will fizzle into ashes.

I turn and walk away, footsteps echoing down the corridor.

My next task is to report this small success to Brinda.

The debate in my mind rages on: I must remain vigilant, never allowing personal fascination to cloud my judgment.

Yet the path is set, and I won’t deny the thrill that simmers beneath my steady exterior.

Valeria, I’m watching you. And if you prove me right, you might be the key to toppling the dark elves from within—and perhaps a catalyst for something far more dangerous than either of us can fully comprehend.