The ride to Jalmyrys was long, the only sound filling the silence being the clatter of hooves against the packed earth. The weight of what had just occurred pressed down on me like the heat from the midday sun. I had barely escaped one fight by convincing the poachers to surrender, but now, we were walking into another—a battle of politics and power, one I feared I was ill-prepared for.

Beside me, Mannes rode in silence, the lines on his face tense. We had been apprehended by this armoured woman—Nadea, I had learned—and though she had taken control of the situation, her anger toward Tadeos was unmistakable. I had inadvertently worsened things when I mentioned his name. She had nearly lost her temper when I called him "Governor."

As we dismounted and were led inside the town, the true nature of the situation became clear. The people on the streets had spoken of Tadeos' failure in hushed whispers, their eyes darting nervously toward the patrolling guards. The town had fallen into disrepair under his watch—roads cracked, markets half-empty, and the stench of neglect hung in the air. He had bitten off more than he could chew by assuming the role of governor.

Nadea guided me and Mannes into the main hall meanwhile our troops and Silvana waited outside, There was a large council that was already present in the hall. The tension in the room was palpable. The man himself, Tadeos, sat on a smaller throne at the far end, his face pale and his eyes avoiding the stern gaze of Nadea as she entered the hall. Her presence seemed to suffocate the room, the authority of the true governor bearing down on everyone present.

As we approached, Tadeos rose unsteadily from his seat. He looked like a man cornered by his failures.

"I see you've returned, Nadea," he said, attempting a smile that failed to reach his eyes. "I was just about to head out to... handle the situation."

Nadea’s lip curled in disdain as she approached him. "You mean the situation you’ve neglected for months?" Her voice was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade. "The complaints have reached the council. After failing miserably at the war front You were sent to govern, not to hide from your responsibilities. Instead, you've left this town vulnerable, mismanaged, and on the brink of chaos."

Tadeos stammered. "I—I’ve done what I could. The villages… the villagers were the problem. They disobeyed! There were so many external threats, bandits, the poachers…"

"They were minor threats," Nadea cut him off coldly. "Yet you, the 'governor,' couldn’t handle them. And now you dare to stand here and offer excuses?" Her eyes were hard, her voice brokering no argument. She turned to the council. "This man is no leader. He’s a coward who sought refuge in this role to avoid the frontlines."

Tadeos flinched at the accusation. He was visibly shaking now, clearly understanding what was coming next.

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Nadea didn't stop. "You were sent here to protect these people, but your incompetence has only left them defenceless. Father has decided: you will no longer govern this town or its surrounding villages."

There was a murmur in the room, and I could see Tadeos' face crumble as the weight of her words settled in. He had no real power here. No allies. No escape. He wasn’t being given a choice—he was being exiled from the position he had clung to.

"You will be sent to Valandia," Nadea continued, "as an emissary. You will ask them for funds to support our war effort against the Battanians. Perhaps there, far from the responsibilities of governance, you might prove useful."

Tadeos opened his mouth as if to protest, but nothing came out. His face was a mask of fear and frustration, a man trapped by his ineptitude. Nadea motioned for one of the guards, who approached Tadeos and escorted him out of the hall. His footsteps echoed through the chamber, a hollow reminder of his fall from grace.

As soon as he left, Nadea turned back to us, her gaze settling on me and Mannes. "The poaching problem should have been resolved months ago," she said firmly. "Yet here we are, cleaning up after Tadeos' failures. You mercenaries have done well, but this is only the beginning. This region needs real leadership and real action."

Mannes stepped forward, a little hesitant. "What do you plan to do now, my lady?"

Her gaze flicked to me, sharp and calculating. "First, we secure the towns and villages. Ensure their safety. The poachers need to be dealt with swiftly, but without the heavy hand Tadeos would have used. These people deserve justice, not cruelty."

Mannes with his steady asked. "And what of Tadeos, my lady? Do you think the Valandians will even listen to him?"

Nadea smiled with a cold, calculated expression. "Tadeos will be out of his depth there as he was here. But that is no longer our concern. The war against the Battanians is escalating, and if the Valandians refuse, then we must prepare to fight without them. I suggest you prepare yourselves. I have a task for you. I remember you, Mannes, and the reason why you left Tadeos's army. I feel that you are the only mercenary that I can rely on for this specific task. Meet me in 2 days and gather around 25 men or women in your squad. Meanwhile, I will cover the expenses for you and your party's accommodation and meals and you will get 10000 denars if you succeed."

The meeting dispersed, and I followed Mannes out into the city streets, my mind swirling with thoughts. Tadeos, the man we had reluctantly served, had finally been ousted from his position, his punishment not as immediate as a blade but just as damning. Nadea, on the other hand, was a force to be reckoned with—strong, decisive, and nothing like her predecessor.

The city, under her command, would soon rise again. But as Mannes and I prepared for what lay ahead, I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that the worst was yet to come. The Valandians, the Battanians, the political games of nobles—it was all leading to something bigger, something darker.

And we were caught right in the middle of it.