Page 28

REMANOS

T he first light of dawn slips through the narrow windows of my estate, chasing lingering shadows across the marble floors.

I stand at the balcony that overlooks the courtyard, arms resting on the polished stone ledge.

My mind churns with the weight of last night’s failures and revelations.

I have no appetite for breakfast, no patience for the political webs closing around me.

If anything, the memory of Mira’s warmth is the only thing keeping me from sinking into full despair.

Even now, recalling how her breath caught in mine stirs a wild combination of guilt and longing.

I was a fool to hope confronting Vaelen with partial evidence might corner him.

He slipped from our grasp with the ease of a serpent, twisting our discoveries into hollow threats.

Instead of backing down, he turned on Mira, threatening to brand her a foreign agitator if she steps out of line.

And I, champion of Milthar, can do nothing but grind my teeth and watch.

The same champion’s rank that once felt like an honor now chafes like manacles on my wrists.

Hoofsteps approach from behind. I tense, expecting a messenger from the Senate demanding yet another audience. Instead, it’s one of my estate guards, a young minotaur with clipped horns. He bows stiffly.

“Champion. There’s a Senate envoy at the main gate, requesting a private meeting with you. They wouldn’t say who sent them, only that it’s urgent.”

My tail lashes once in annoyance. “Very well. I’ll receive them in the open-air foyer. Make certain they’re not carrying weapons.”

He salutes and hurries off. A heavy knot forms in my gut. The Senate rarely sends envoys at dawn unless something dire is afoot. Perhaps Vaelen has escalated his tactics, or some senator more sympathetic wants to broker a deal. Either possibility fills me with trepidation.

I head down to the foyer, a wide space flanked by tall columns that frame the sky. My estate staff stands discreetly at the edges, ready to serve if needed. I motion for them to keep their distance. Given the swirl of conspiracies, I’ll be cautious about who overhears.

Within minutes, a cloaked figure strides into the foyer, trailed by my guard. Under the hood, I glimpse an older minotaur’s graying muzzle and stern eyes—Senator Ortem. My tension ebbs slightly; I know him as a traditionalist, but not entirely corrupt.

“Ortem,” I greet with a shallow bow. “To what do I owe the pleasure at this early hour?”

He sweeps the cloak aside, revealing the embroidered sash marking his rank. “I come on behalf of the Senate, champion. There’s been talk of your… difficulties controlling your spoil.”

My jaw clenches. “Mira is not a mindless possession. I don’t control her—I ensure her safety.”

His brow twitches at my sharp tone. He steps closer, voice low. “You must be aware, rumors abound that she’s been snooping around docks and warehouses. Some claim she assaulted loyal workers, forging ledgers to implicate certain senators.”

A surge of anger flares in my chest. “Those so-called loyal workers are traitors funneling orc arms into the city. She’s uncovering the truth Vaelen wants buried.”

Ortem’s ear flicks. “Nevertheless, the Senate is displeased. They fear her interference might destabilize trade relations. Already, our partners in the southern ports whisper about contraband controversies.”

I grip my bracers. “I have proof Vaelen orchestrates those arms deals. Why not investigate him?”

He winces, casting a wary glance around the foyer. “Vaelen denies all allegations. He claims the documents are forgeries. Without a formal inquiry, the Senate remains unconvinced. Meanwhile, the city’s image suffers.”

I sense a rehearsed rhythm to Ortem’s words—like he’s delivering an ultimatum. “So you’re here to threaten me with Mira’s status?”

He straightens, the lines in his face deepening. “I’m here to relay the Senate’s concerns. Keep her reined in, or we’ll have no choice but to consider returning her to the orcs. They may want her for… interrogation, if she continues stirring trouble.”

My fists clench, a throbbing tension coiling behind my eyes. “That’s barbaric. And if the orcs reclaim her, do you think they’ll stop there? The entire city stands at risk of more raids.”

He sighs. “I argue the same, but Vaelen’s influence grows daily. He paints her as a dangerous outsider. Many in the Senate believe him.”

I swallow a bitter rush of frustration. Ortem’s words confirm what I feared—Vaelen is leveraging his position to stoke xenophobia, turning Mira into a scapegoat. “Tell me the Senate’s exact demand, Ortem.”

His gaze meets mine, reluctant. “They want you to keep her under strict watch. No more unescorted excursions. No more prying into Senate or trade affairs. If she obeys and you cease these accusations, the Senate will… reconsider your position.”

I snort. “My position, meaning what? They dangle the promise of letting me remain champion if I fall in line?” My tail flicks restlessly.

Ortem nods. “In fact, there’s talk among the Bavkus of offering you a seat—an influential role in shaping policy. They believe it will pacify the common folk. But only if you publicly denounce Mira’s meddling and pledge loyalty to the Senate’s decisions.”

Outrage pounds through my veins. “They want me to throw her to the wolves. Claim she’s lying or forging documents, so I can climb higher in their ranks?”

He spreads his hands in a helpless gesture. “Champion, politics often demands sacrifice. The city cannot afford to appear divided, especially with orc aggression lingering on our borders.”

I lash out verbally, voice trembling with fury. “You’d have me betray an innocent woman to preserve the Senate’s facade of unity?”

He draws back, expression pinched with discomfort. “I don’t relish it. But the Senate is resolute. Either you accept their terms, or they’ll petition to remove you as champion and arrange Mira’s extradition.”

My heart slams against my ribs. Every fiber in me rebels at the notion of betraying her. Memories of last night flash through my mind—her warmth, the breathless vulnerability we shared. The thought of handing her over to orcs, or branding her a liar in front of the city, makes me sick.

“If I refuse?” I manage, voice gruff.

Ortem lowers his gaze. “Vaelen has enough allies to force your ousting. They might send her away within days. I’m sorry, Remanos, but that’s the reality.”

An uneasy hush follows. My estate staff stands at the periphery, sensing the tension but not daring to interrupt. Finally, Ortem steps back, drawing his cloak around him. “Give the Senate your answer soon. I don’t wish to see you dethroned, champion.”

He turns, hooves clacking against the polished floor as he departs.

My guard follows him to the gate, ensuring he leaves.

I remain frozen in the foyer, each breath burning my lungs.

The Senate offers me a seat in the Bavkus—unprecedented power, a chance to shape Milthar’s laws—if I side with Vaelen’s narrative and quash Mira.

The very notion disgusts me. Yet refusing invites the Senate’s wrath and puts Mira in mortal danger.

I trudge down a corridor, mind spinning. I know where I’m heading—toward the estate’s smaller library where Mira often reads shipping records or scribbles notes about sabotage. I suck in a sharp breath at the thought of seeing her again. How can I face her with this fresh threat?

Passing a row of tall windows, I glimpse her silhouette inside the library.

She’s pacing, the midday light illuminating her figure, highlighting the tension in her posture.

I step in quietly, noticing her hair bound back for convenience, her clothes practical for rummaging dusty ledgers.

She looks up as I enter, eyes narrowing with concern.

“What happened?” she asks, voice taut. “You look like you could tear the marble out of the walls.”

I exhale, fighting the swirl of emotions.

She’s the cause of my turmoil and also the one person who might ground me.

“Ortem just came. The Senate demands we stop this investigation. Otherwise they’ll brand you an agitator and ship you to the orcs.

And they offered me a seat in the Bavkus if I comply.

” My voice resonates with bitter disbelief.

Her face pales, lips parting in shock. “They’re blackmailing you? If you betray me and pretend everything is Vaelen’s lies, they’ll elevate you to the Senate?”

I nod stiffly. “Exactly. They want a unified front, no matter how rotten the truth is. If I cooperate, they’ll let you stay—on a short leash, presumably. If I refuse, they threaten to remove me as champion and hand you over.” My throat aches with the vile choice they’ve thrust upon me.

She sets down the ledger she’s holding, hands trembling. “So Vaelen escalates. And he’s winning if the Senate is parroting his stance.”

A wave of shame washes over me. “I can’t do it, Mira. I won’t lie about you or yield to Vaelen’s deceit.” I clench a fist. “But refusing means risking everything.”

She presses her lips together, gaze searching my face. “I’d never ask you to give up your rank for me, Remanos. This city is your life. I know how deeply you care for Milthar’s people.”

I let out a ragged breath, stepping closer so our gazes hold. “I’m champion to protect the innocent, not to feed them falsehoods. Selling you out isn’t an option. I’d rather lose my seat than become Vaelen’s puppet.”

Emotion flickers in her eyes—gratitude, fear, something else. “Then we fight back. We expose Vaelen’s crimes to enough honest senators that they can’t ignore us. There must be some who still value real justice. Ortem maybe, but who else?”