Verum’s commemorative feast was aggravatingly festive. It felt disrespectful to celebrate a day honoring the deaths of thousands upon tens of thousands of soldiers, but it was also so lionish to throw a party despite the heaviness — or perhaps even because of it. Removed from the tragedy of loss of life themselves, the Lion Tribe nobility especially thrived on the drama of war, romanticizing and swooning over stories of impressive courage and honor.

After the initial, appropriately sober round of toasts, the feast grew merry and was then cleared to make room for a dance. A half an hour into the dance she was actively avoiding, having already provided her required “speech” during the toasts, Callida began her casual shuffle toward the exit.

“General Yudha, I know you’re not trying to slip out already.”

She sighed heavily, deflating her shoulders as she turned to face her accuser. “Your Majesty,” she greeted him with the appropriate bow despite feeling annoyed by the knowing smirk quirking handsome features that were currently glistening slightly from exertion.

“May I have the next dance, General?”

She huffed, a less extreme response than the outright groan that felt more apt. “As much as I appreciate the invitation, I don’t–”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” he said, cutting her off quickly. “I’m sure you’ll be able to muster up enough enthusiasm to make it convincing by the time the music starts.” Inclining his head to her while giving her a pointed, amused glance, he took his leave, seeking out a corner of the dance floor where his dutiful bodyguard, Captain Pius, could keep tabs on him from the sidelines.

Growling her frustration low in her throat, Callida stalked to the back wall to wait for the current dance to end. She hated dancing. Well, she didn’t hate dancing; she hated the flaunted showiness of dancing in this nobility-dominated ballroom. As the music transitioned, Callida grudgingly left the wall to find her royal dance partner, an intentionally fake smile taking up residence on her lips. It was her only recourse for protest.

Verum only laughed when he caught sight of her and took her hand, leading her to the dance floor. “I requested a waltz,” he informed her. “I know you know how to dance the waltz.”

She rolled her eyes but accepted his hand on her waist while setting her own on his shoulder, falling into step with him easily. “I’m assuming you have a reason for dragging me out here?”

Verum chuckled and nudged her into a spin that made her blood red, velvet dress swish around her legs. “Do I need an ulterior motive to ask an old friend to dance?”

“So you don’t have one?” she quipped back.

“Well, I didn’t say that.”

She raised an eyebrow expectantly as they fell back into the basic steps. “So…?”

His expression became serious, and Callida began studying his eyes more intently. “I’ve been thinking about… things with Flore. More specifically, the issues we’ve been discussing.”

“Do we need to take this somewhere private?”

“After this waltz?”

She nodded once, still searching his face for hidden depths of meaning. He met her eyes unflinchingly, pulling her in close and matching her intensity as they twirled around the room.

The music ended before she could decipher much, and Callida felt her cheeks burn hot when she finally broke eye contact to find half of the crowd watching them. Before she could pull away, Verum caught hold of her elbow, drawing her even closer to whisper into her ear, “meet me in my study in an hour.” He pulled back, meeting her eyes again, and Callida tipped her head in a barely there nod. He smiled and stepped back to offer his dance partner a short bow, a bow she quickly reciprocated before turning on her heel and leaving.

***

She’d been waiting for well over an hour. She didn’t mind the quiet, but she was annoyed by his tardiness. To be fair, he’d probably gotten stuck as the host of the feast, and Callida knew firsthand how demanding the nobility could be.

While she waited for Verum, Callida made herself comfortable on the large couch by the fireplace, kicking her shoes off to tuck her feet under her while she curled up with the giant pillow against the armrest. If he was going to be late, she was going to take a nap.

It felt like she’d merely blinked when the sensation of being watched startled her into alertness. Verum, chuckling, watched her snap into a sitting position and accepted the indignant smack against his shoulder.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“Primordials, Verum! You couldn’t make some noise or poke me or something?!”

“Aww, but you’re so peaceful when you’re asleep,” he teased.

Callida smacked his arm again and stood up to stretch and scrub the sleep from her eyes. She yawned indelicately and squeaked a little as the stretch arched her back. “What time is it?”

“I dunno. Late? My apologies.”

She waved the apology off and turned to look him over. “You wanted to talk?”

Much of his tease extinguished immediately, and Verum flopped onto the couch she’d just vacated, his lips buzzing through a sigh. “Alright. I’ve been debating for a while now how to approach this, and I think with you, it’d probably be best if I just… came out with it.”

“Ok. Please do,” Callida prompted when he didn’t continue, and Verum stood up to pace the length of the hearth, his brow furrowed with apparent distress.

“I’m worried about…” he stopped, meeting her eyes and lowering his voice despite being alone together, “I’m worried about the investigation failing. Have you heard back from your team?”

“It’s been slow going,” Callida confirmed, and Verum’s brow pinched further.

“Callida, if there is a conspiracy, we may need to force their hand.”

“What do you mean?”

He released a heavy breath and drew closer, agitation in every movement. “I’m going to hope for the best and assume that Flore is going to come back with a healthy baby.”

“Ok?”

“That would seem to imply that someone has been sabotaging her pregnancies.”

“Right?”

“So then what?”

“I’m not following,” Callida said with a frown.

“Whomever this person is, whoever these people are, I can only assume that they’ve been trying to prevent me from fathering an heir. Why?”

“We won’t know until we find them and can assess their motives.” Callida’s frown deepened.

“Ok. Let’s say that not only is Flore’s pregnancy a success, but she returns bringing me a son — an heir. Will they go after my son?”

“Verum–”

“I’m not going to put Flore through that, Callida. She’s been through enough, and if you can’t promise me this will be taken care of before she gets back….”

Callida stopped trying to come up with reassurances and strategies to instead read her friend’s distress. Angry, bitter tears were welling up in the corners of brown eyes burning with a determination under threat by fear. His jaw was set, his posture rigid and unyielding — stubborn. “What are you proposing?”

“What?”

“How do you propose we force their hand?”

She watched Verum roll his shoulders out, trying to force them to relax, his expression softening despite the remaining tension. “Give them a new target.”

“A new target,” she repeated slowly. “You mean, take a mistress after all? Verum, I thought you didn’t want to put Flore through that either.”

“I don’t,” he said a little harshly before his voice softened again. “I don’t want to actually take a mistress. I just want to give whomever is hurting Flore something to do while she’s gone, so your people can… can catch them.”

“And you already have someone in mind for this rather dangerous job?” she asked, not really wanting the answer.

He stepped closer. “We already have a history together, Callida.”

“I can’t,” she said, stepping back and shaking her head.

“It would be believable.”

“Verum–”

“It would be irresponsible of me to ask a civilian to take this risk.”

“I’m sorry, Verum, I can’t!” She insisted, feeling a little desperate. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t do it.”

“Why not?” he probed softly.

“It’s complicated.”

He snorted. “Well, yeah. All of this is complicated.”

“No. It’s not– I can’t do this to Rogue,” she confessed unwillingly.

“It’s not like we’d actually be doing anything.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Then what did you mean?” he pressed again.

“He’s not even here for me to discuss this with him.”

“That’s why it’s perfect. He’s not here; Flore’s not here. It will look like we both found excuses to get rid of our spouses so we can… have an affair. And it’s not like Qiangde or Flore ever need to know about this.”

“But you know that they’ll find out anyway! Verum, I can’t do that to him. Not even a pretend affair. I just can’t hurt him like that.”

“You can’t, or you won’t?”

“Do the semantics matter?”

He sighed, turning away to resume anxiously pacing the hearth. “I’m scared, Callida. I just… feel so helpless. I’m not going to lie to you, while I want to protect my child and I don’t want to put Flore through any more heartbreak, I’m also trying to protect myself. This has been a real trial.”

“And you’re feeling vulnerable,” Callida surmised.

“More than that.” He stopped pacing to meet her eyes again. “For me, it’s not just about the pain of losing my children or even the humiliation of infertility. I’m failing my family, yes, but I’m also failing my tribe. It’s my duty to protect them, and I don’t think I need to spell out for you the consequences of failing to produce an heir.”

“No. You don’t.”

“This might be our only chance to catch them, Callida, and we both know that if we fail here, it won’t matter if I take a mistress or not.”

Choking on her protests, she had to look away from him and begin her own burdened pacing. He was right, and these were the exact same fears she was harboring. But this wouldn’t be fair to Qiangde. Already she’d been asked to sacrifice so much for the greater good to his detriment. He wasn’t some pawn or an acceptable sacrifice.

“Why don’t you take some time to think about it?” Verum sighed tiredly and flopped onto the couch. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I don’t need to think about it, Verum. The answer is no. I won’t do that to Rogue. We’ll find another way.” She bowed out awkwardly, that burdened feeling only growing heavier.