Oleg's trading post had not seen this much mirth in months. The delicious smell of roast venison and freshly baked bread wafted from the kitchen, and the last barrels of ale saved from the Stag Lord were being tapped. All Guelder's new friends were here, celebrating: from Bokken the alchemist to Kesten Garess, Lady Jamandi's guard captain, including the original members of her team and the two stragglers salvaged from Tartuccio's party. Even Kressle popped in for a few minutes and a pint to say farewell before leaving the Stolen Lands for Daggermark.

Guelder prepared for the celebration just as carefully as for a fight. As her body was exceptionally bad at tolerating alcohol, she had recourse to Bokken's expertise and purchased a bottle of antitoxin from him, which made it possible for her to enjoy a mug of ale without dangerous consequences. Alas, not everyone was as prudent as she. Tristian was already resting in the team's shared bedroom on the top floor, overdosed with alcohol. Sooner or later, Guelder would leave the celebration for a little while and check on him. But first she had to take care of something else.

Bringing her half-full mug along, she joined Regongar and Octavia at their table. Unwilling to disturb their intense kissing bout, she sat patiently, sipping her ale, until they noticed her.

"Ah, here comes our lovely leader!" exclaimed Regongar. "Wanna join?"

"Please do!" purred Octavia. "I bet you haven't been properly kissed for weeks, to say the least! You deserve better!"

Guelder took a deep breath. This was going to be hard.

"Dear Via and Reg, I wanted to thank you both for joining me and my team. You are great companions, in terms of magic as well as personalities, and you bring life and excitement wherever you go. Now, because I have long-term plans with both of you, there is one thing we must discuss."

"And that is?" asked Octavia, raising her carefully groomed eyebrows.

"Sex."

"Oh," said Regongar, pulling his chair a bit closer to Guelder. "Unexpectedly to the point. So you do want to join, hm?"

"No, thanks. I have several wild shapes, but unicorn is not one of them."

"Then... are we too loud?" wondered Octavia.

"Do not take me wrong, friends. It is perfectly fine to be sexually active, inside or outside your relationship, as long as you do it ethically. However, in order to avoid any grievance within the team, I must ask you to limit unsolicited offers of carnal pleasures to one per year per target."

"Huh?" said both of them in unison.

"For example, Reg, if you invite Tristian into your tent again before 18 Desnus 4711, I will suspend you from the team for the time until that date, be that one day or ten months."

"What?" exclaimed Octavia. "We are free people! We invite into our tent whoever we want!"

"Indeed. You are free people who make informed choices, aware of the consequences, taking responsibility, and respecting other people's freedom."

"Oh," said Regongar, trying to make an intelligent face. "Does that mean the more offers of sex, the more free time on my hands?"

"The more offers of sex, the less fun and adventures. The choice is yours to make."

"Reg, you know that more offers of sex doesn't necessarily mean more sex, right?" cooed Octavia.

"And as to myself," continued Guelder, "I would appreciate if you avoided making such offers altogether. I am not interested in them, and I am fairly sure this will not change in the foreseeable future."

Octavia made a disappointed meowing sound.

"Do not take it personal, Via. This is just what I am, and it would be really nice to feel accepted in this regard, too."

The couple exchanged a look, then nodded, silently agreeing to leave the fool to her folly. Guelder accepted that for an acknowledgement of her request.

"Also," she continued, "please note that, going forward, I expect to make the acquaintance of important politicians. Kings, princes, chieftains, high priests, envoys, generals, you name it. It would be for the best if you two refrained from trying to seduce them. That could lead to unwanted complications. If they want something from you, let them take the initiative, but I advise to be careful in such cases, too. Sexual openness can make you an easy target. For instance..."

After making her point exhaustively, Guelder left the crestfallen couple to seek consolation in each other's arms, and slipped away from the revellers. She needed some fresh air.

As she stepped out to the courtyard, the cool evening breeze brought the faint scent of lilies of the valley. She walked across the yard with soft steps, enjoying her lost and found boots, when she heard the door creak open behind her. As she looked back, she saw a flash of movement. Someone was trying really hard to remain unseen.

Pretending not to have noticed anything, Guelder climbed the watchpost at the corner of the palisade wall. Pangur was out hunting, safe in the knowledge that his mistress wasn't in danger. She wondered if this was about to change.

She wrapped herself in her cloak against the evening chill, and looked back down on the courtyard. Two shady figures were hiding behind a pile of empty barrels. Guelder shook her head in disbelief. Did they really think they had a chance against her cat eyes?

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"Out for a walk, guys?" she called out. "Come join me up here."

A flustered Jhod Kavken clambered out from behind the barrels, with a dishevelled Kesten Garess in tow. They made their way up the watchpost, quarreling with each other in a muffled voice.

"Did you two just try to stalk me?" she asked with an incredulous grin. "Mind you, I have spent part of my life as a beast, and no offense, but you are not the best hunters. What are you up to?"

Kesten jabbed Jhod in the ribs with his elbow.

"You say it, your voice is deeper," he hissed.

Scratching his balding head in embarrassment, Jhod did his best to man up.

"Look, Guelder, I'm sorry about all this. But you know, there are some... things I couldn't help but notice around you, and... that gave rise to a certain suspicion in me. I'm looking to confirm or refute this suspicion."

"Mhm," added Kesten, his hand on the pommel of his sword.

"Do tell," said Guelder, amused. It was just a matter of time for Jhod to raise the question. In fact, she was surprised he'd waited for so long.

"See, it all adds up. The first thing I noticed is your hands. They are... not human. And not elven, either. And your eyes, too. Definitely not elven. I even had a long conversation with the other elf lady who recently joined us, just to collect data for comparison. Mind you, that required considerable courage on my part. And I came to the conclusion that she has the looks of a normal elf, while you are something different. Which is more than weird, because she is an undead, and—"

"Jhod, you are beating around the bush. Get to the point."

"Also, I couldn't help but overhear when young Octavia was pestering you about that silver chain you retrieved from the Stag Lord's fort."

"All right, Jhod, you have said enough. This is my response. Had the Stag Lord been smart enough to use that silver chain on me while he had me in his power, tonight we would not be standing here, discussing my looks. Is your curiosity satisfied?"

"I take that as a yes to my unsaid question."

"Brilliant. Then it is my turn to ask. What does this change?"

Jhod lowered his head, gazing at his boots, kicking an invisible pebble in front of him.

"The last full moon was two weeks ago," said Guelder. "Right after you told me in detail about your history as a self-proclaimed werewolf hunter. Still, in order to identify me as a werecreature, you can only rely on my traits of appearance and items in my possession. Not on a mysterious trail of corpses left in my wake, and least of all on an attack against your person, although I have plenty of reason to perceive you as a threat. What does this tell you about me?"

The priest heaved a big sigh.

"I'm sorry about all this, Guelder. You're right. You knew about my past, knew that I could be a danger to your life, and still gave me a chance. I suppose I should do the same."

"Kesten?"

"I'm just here to have Father Kavken's back in case this conversation goes awry. What's good enough for him is good enough for me, too."

"Good to hear that. When I get to found my barony, I will count on your support. Also, if you want to keep an eye on me, in case I grow negligent in keeping my curse under control, you are welcome to do so. Leave me now, please, and enjoy your evening."

Finally, Guelder remained alone on top of the watchpost, undisturbed by stupid or less stupid questions. She couldn't see far, the canopy of the forest blocking her view. She found herself wondering if this trading post could develop into a little town of its own, considering its favourable position along the South Rostland Road. As a baroness, she would help with some ideas and financial support.

She stood there for a long time, leaning on the makeshift wooden battlements, savouring the idea of rulership. She thought about her future subjects. Common people traumatised by the terror of the bandits, like Oleg. Fugitive slaves seeking safety from their masters, like Reg and Via. Nobles in search of a new life, like Valerie, her new fighter. Remains of the three dwarven tribes who had once maintained a network of fortresses in the wilderness of the Narlmarches, as the story went. Would Guelder be able to preserve these beautiful landscapes of nearly intact nature, with as little intervention as possible? Would she be able to build a country here resembling her homeland she'd left behind so long ago? Or would she have to be realistic and make painful, grudging compromises?

A barn owl departed from Oleg's attic on a quest to get dinner, soaring on silent wings, barely audible even for keen elven ears attuned to the softest sounds of nature.

Guelder wondered if she, a lone swallow, would be able to bring about summer. She would have to balance on a tightrope between protecting nature and promoting civilisation, and she could tell that all her advisors would push her invariably in the latter direction. How would she keep up with her responsibilities and not lose herself in the process? The task ahead daunted her. She was just a druid who'd spent most of her life in the forest. How could she believe she could deal with something like this?

Her fingers closed around the amulet hanging in her neck, thinking of the elusive spirit. Was she watching now? Had she even realised that her chosen champion had been victorious? It would be nice of her to pay a visit to Guelder tonight and say thank you. She held her breath, watching out for an unusual breeze, a new scent, a subtle change in the air. But no, everything was normal. An enchanting, peaceful, perfectly normal early summer night.

She will never come.

"I do not care what your deal was with the Stag Lord," said Guelder into the darkness, not really expecting to be heard. "I did what you wanted me to do. I saved the Stolen Lands, as well as you, and survived. Now comes the hard part. I will build a tiny green empire here, and I will need your help. Let us be friends and care for this land together."

No answer came. A bat zigzagged above Guelder's head, hunting for night moths and, hopefully, mosquitoes. A few brave insects had already feasted upon her blood, immersed as she was in her thoughts. Of course, there were swamps nearby. People would want to drain them for farmlands. Guelder would have to dissuade them from doing so, preferably without using her claws. She would have to ensure a peaceful coexistence between humans, fey, boggards, mites, kobolds, and whatever other races inhabited this land of rugged beauty. And she would have to protect all this from the outside world, which would extend its tentacles towards her land, so full of unexploited resources.

In all her life, she had never felt so small.