It was late, and sleep had long escaped me. I shifted, trying to ease the weight pressing down on me, and in the process, I pushed Ju aside. Realizing what I've done, I froze, worried I'd woken her, but she simply turned over and continued to sleep soundly. Poor thing must have dozed off while casting healing spells on me. Elves really are light—she barely weighed anything at all.
I glanced around the spacious room, bathed in the eerie light of the moons. The white marble floor gleamed beneath the faint glow, and the wide double bed—large enough to fit an entire family, pets included—was now occupied by just Ju and me. Cupboards lined the walls, along with a giant mirror and a few smaller ones. Two imposing doors led out of the room: one to the main hall and staircase, the other to Ju’s adjacent room, though she hadn’t bothered to use it. A pair of massive crystal double doors, separated by a column, opened onto the terrace. Clearly, security wasn’t much of a concern at this height—or perhaps the crystal could withstand a decent amount of battering.
A smaller door led to a bathroom, where a marble bathtub—more like a small pool—sat beneath yet another mirror, this one near the lavatory. Unfortunately, the water installation wasn’t functional, a frustrating shortcoming that needed addressing soon. Until then, we were stuck hauling water by hand and relying on chamber pots.
Unable to find my slippers, I padded barefoot toward the silk draperies and stepped out onto the terrace, which was made of the same marble as the rest of the room. In the moonlight, it appeared almost white, though during the day it showed its true pink-gray hue. Honestly, who designs a pink-gray terrace? Sid was there, curled up in a ball, fast asleep. I had laid out a few giant carpets specifically for him, even though he’d insisted it wasn’t needed.
I sat down beside Sid, resting my back against him, and began my soul-strengthening exercises. They mostly involved long stretches of meditation, broken up now and then by graceful, ballet-like movements. Personally, I suspected those movements were added just to prevent your body from going numb after hours of stillness, but Ju insisted they were essential. Or maybe she just enjoyed too much watching me struggle to imitate her fluid and gracious demonstrations.
Whatever the reason, I settled in, and almost immediately, I could swear Sid started to purr like a giant cat. I couldn't actually hear it, but I could feel the gentle vibration through my back as I leaned against him. Chuckling to myself, I let it be and continued my meditation.
We had been living in the castle for a full Quarter now—(in Kargath's terms, a Quarter of a Kargath is eight days) —and life was good. If you asked me, I could easily get used to this peaceful, pampered existence. It felt like a place I could genuinely call home.
The one thing that bothered me, though, was my 'avatar.' I had to rely on Ju, Alice, and sometimes Tina for everything—feeding me, cleaning me, even getting me dressed. Those three were the only ones who had seen how truly wrecked I was underneath my illusions. Well, them and Lynx, who could see through it all. Not even my closest friends knew the full extent of my state. I wasn’t ready to let them see my half-reptilian face.
Ju had insisted I work on strengthening my soul first before even attempting to fix my appearance. Now that I had done that, I was finally allowed to try... but only if I passed her examination.
We didn’t have to do much work ourselves. There was a staff of cleaners and cooks—local girls from the nearby villages—who were happy to earn some money by serving at the castle. However, their access to the fifth floor was restricted to when I was down on the fourth, meeting with my friends and followers.
Whenever I went outside, I was always wrapped in layers of illusions. To avoid awkward questions about my new horns, I kept them invisible. It was simpler that way, and it also had the bonus of making me look like a nearly perfect human girl—if you ignored the ears. I thought about hiding those too, but they moved constantly on their own, instinctively and out of my control. Creating a spell to conceal them was more complicated, at least with my current level of illusion magic. Frankly speaking I didn't bother too much with them, I had other priorities.
I accepted Drackar’s proposal, and I have to say, I had no reason to complain. I had the topmost apartment of the castle all to myself, complete with a massive terrace. And I have to give credit to whoever built it—it was big and sturdy enough for Sid to land, lounge, and sleep on.
My work at the castle so far had mainly involved delegating tasks.
"Yes, finally, I’m the boss. I don’t work—I delegate!" I thought, feeling smug about it. It really was satisfying to have people to delegate to.
At first, Alice could handle just about everything by herself. But I didn’t leave her completely on her own—Durham took on most of the administrative responsibilities, managing contact with the Xsoha, who actually did the day-to-day work.
The Xsoha were a kind of caste, though they had integrated themselves over the years throughout the empire and, more recently, the kingdom as well. They originated from the Southern District, or Xsoh in Vynaian, of the imperial capital. Officially, there were no castes in the kingdom, but the Xsoha were an exception due to the sheer complexity of accounting in this world. They used intricate tables for all calculations, and, having a near monopoly on these methods, most noble houses ended up hiring them to handle their administrative work. Lately, they'd even begun expanding into Guarava, where they'd never been seen before.
Durham’s role was to make decisions whenever the Xsoha came with questions, and to check over their accounting. He had volunteered for the job since he claimed to understand their calculations. There were five Xsoha families living on the lower floors of the palace, each family head with their own work area, but beyond that, I didn’t know much about them yet.
The massive castle had five floors, including a raised ground floor and two subterranean levels beneath it, with more than a hundred rooms in total. We hadn’t even seen, let alone counted, all of them—not to mention the outbuildings. Sixteen towers, both large and small, gave the whole place a fairy-tale atmosphere.
On the floor below mine—the fourth floor—were Alice's quarters and the boys' rooms, though most of the floor remained unused. We planned to convert some of the rooms into common spaces for meetings, but first, they needed a thorough cleaning. There was old, rotting furniture in some areas, but there was also an ancient library containing several hundred books, all in a very fragile state. The moment Ju saw it, she forbade anyone from even attempting to read them until she could arrange for a specialist to come and restore them.
The castle sat with the meandering river on one side and a vast courtyard on the other. As the river wound around, three-quarters of the seven-meter-high walls ran along its banks, leaving only a quarter facing the more open plain. About a kilometer away lay a growing village. A narrow moat had once encircled the landward side of the walls, but over time, it had become clogged and was now in the process of being cleared and dried out. There were a couple of small metal doors along the riverside and a massive gate with a portcullis and drawbridge on the other.
Inside the courtyard, several auxiliary buildings clustered around the castle, which stood out like a jewel in a ring. A garrison of forty orcs, led by one of Drackar's lieutenants, was permanently stationed here. They occupied a low building opposite the main castle. Of the garrison, ten orcs were always on duty, manning the main gate, patrolling the walls, or guarding the castle entrance, while the rest remained on standby or trained in a separate yard. Most of the training and dueling grounds were outside the courtyard, in the open plain.
Due to the sheer size of the place, you could easily spend hours without encountering an orc—except along the walls or in the courtyard. The massive main gate remained open during the day but was locked at night.
My followers had settled on the third floor, each claiming a room for themselves. We were down to five now. The day after Dozsa and Laona left, Hexera didn’t show up for breakfast. At first, I worried something had happened to her and sent Sid to investigate. He later reported seeing all three of them traveling together on the road. It was frustrating that she hadn’t even bothered to tell me she was leaving.
To make things worse, when I informed everyone that I had accepted Drackar's offer, Krassem made a huge scene, accusing me of making a pact with the kingdom’s enemies. He even went so far as to call it treason. Durham voiced his concerns too, and even Moran admitted he wasn’t entirely comfortable with orcs being stationed here. Even my boys weren’t convinced it was the right decision. Eventually, I had to ask Krassem to either decide if he was staying or leaving, but to stop pestering me—the decision was already made.
Well, with Krassem gone, I was down to five followers to handle the work. I supposed that would be enough, as their main task was to interact with the population, identify any issues, and offer a more human face to the administration. Essentially, they were meant to bridge the gap between the orcs and the locals, showing a more relatable side of governance.
There had been a few complaints about the orcs, but nothing major—mostly trivial issues. Drackar seemed to have his troop well-disciplined.
I took a deep breath. Instead of meditating, I found myself once again going over the situation in my head. Focus on yourself, the book said. Clear your mind and picture your soul. I tried, but before I could center myself, Ju appeared, stepping out of the room.
“What are you doing out here?” Ju whispered, careful not to wake Sid.
I shrugged. “Couldn't sleep, so I figured I’d meditate.”
“Alright, let me sit with you,” she said, settling down beside me.
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I glanced at her, a little concerned. She’d been exhausting herself lately. “You don’t have to, you know. You should rest in bed—I’m really feeling fine.”
“Nonsense!” she replied firmly.
I hesitated. Was something keeping her up too? “Are you worried about Tommy?” I asked, thinking of the young elf she had freed from slavery.
Her expression softened at the mention of him.
She sighed. "His name is Thyomeyan, and no, I’m not really worried. Well, maybe a little. I left him with a trustworthy elf couple heading toward his homeland. They even knew someone from his clan, so... he’ll be fine."
I watched as she rested her head on my shoulder, then slid lower, still keeping a hand gently on my belly. Her healing magic was subtle but constant, soothing me in waves.
“You’re overdoing it,” I said, concerned. “You look exhausted.”
“Nonsense,” she muttered, though her voice sounded unconvincing.
I studied her for a moment. Her eyes seemed a little unfocused, and there was a sluggishness to her movements. “Did you... drink something?” I asked, noticing how out of it she seemed.
Her gaze snapped to mine, indignant. "No! I’m perfectly fine, just a bit sleepy." Her furrowed brow and defensive tone said otherwise.
Something wasn’t right. Not wanting to wake Sid, I took her hand gently despite her weak protests and led her back inside the room.
"Come on, be honest with me. Something's off. I’ve noticed for a few days now—you look groggy in the mornings. What’s going on?"
At first, she didn’t want to say anything. It took nearly an hour of back-and-forth before she finally came clean.
"So... you’re using my mana to get drunk?" I asked, incredulous.
“Well, just tiny, infinitesimal motes of your mana," she tried to explain.
"This isn’t fair! You told me you were casting calming spells for me, and meanwhile, you’ve been getting high on my mana?” I protested.
“What’s unfair about it? You needed the calming spells, and while I was at it, I did a little something for myself too. What’s wrong with taking a bit of your mana? It gave me nicer, more interesting dreams!" she said defensively.
"But when I took your mana, I got completely wrecked! I couldn't even cast a basic spell after that," I said, recalling the disaster at the ant hill.
"That's because you ingested way too much. Like I said, I only take tiny motes—you didn’t even notice they were gone," she explained, sounding like an expert.
"I want to try it too!" I insisted.
"No way! You can’t handle it, and you definitely can’t control yourself," she protested.
"Then no more mana for you!" I said, crossing my arms with a final shrug.
"I can still sneak a few motes when I cast those soothing spells on you," she teased with a smirk.
"Not if I don’t let you cast them on me anymore," I shot back, raising the stakes.
She just shrugged.
"Alright, but don’t come crying to me when you get indigestion again—as it happened after that story at the ants' hill!"
"How does one even take these 'motes of mana?'" I asked, genuinely curious.
She started explaining, her tone serious. "It's not easy, since they're too small to actually see. You have to sense them. You concentrate until you can almost imagine the tiniest details, then picture yourself grabbing one and slowly channeling it into your mana veins. It doesn't matter if you can't see it, the key is to feel it."
She paused to make sure I was following. "Foreign mana can't just enter your body on its own—you have to let it in, just like when you're channeling your own mana. You'll feel a little prickle right where you push it. But remember, we're not mana-compatible—quite the opposite, actually. So, you have to take tiny amounts, or you'll end up mana-tainted again. Do you hear me?"
Her warning hung in the air, and I nodded, not entirely sure I was ready for this experiment.
*
The great King of Kings, Thores, a level ninety-one mage, paced restlessly in the Purple Saloon, his favored room for private meetings. His most trusted advisors stood around him, their eyes tracking his every step. Abruptly, he stopped and turned toward Merhang, the gray eminence, the chief of spies. Merhang, a high-level rogue with no noble titles to his name, had started as a local mafia boss before climbing, through a web of machinations, to the top of the spy network. He liked being referred to simply as "the eminence."
"A dragon, you said?" The king's voice was laced with disbelief, still struggling to process the intel.
"Not one, but two," Nebesko, the great paladin, interjected.
The King sighed, turning toward him. But before he could respond, Fiona, the finance minister, cut in swiftly. "We’ve only confirmed one sighting, and there’s no solid evidence of a second. That could just be local exaggeration from some hothead."
Nebesko shrugged but didn’t push the matter further.
Merhang raised a brow, adding, "There’s also the peculiar detail that the dragon refers to her as 'mama,' according to certain reports."
The King bit his lower lip, deep in thought. "Are these reports reliable?" he asked, the weight of the situation growing heavier.
Merhang shrugged. "It's category B intel, but we have it from multiple sources, which lends it some weight."
Archmage Flores, the only mage in the kingdom who outranked the king in level and the kingdom's sole archmage, sipped her tea thoughtfully as the conversation unfolded. The room fell into a brief pause, during which she spoke, her voice measured and contemplative.
"Archwizard Godain mentioned she cast highly unusual spells, like that instant disappearance during the zeppelin incident."
Nebesko, not one for magic, shrugged. "I know Cala. It could’ve been an assassin skill."
The King sighed again, still uncertain what to make of all this. He turned back toward Merhang. "But she did take control of the domain from the orcs?"
"Yes and no," Merhang replied coolly. "The orcs are still there."
"How?" The king's brow furrowed in confusion.
Fiona, Duke of Cromwall, raised an eyebrow. "Could it be she's struck some sort of arrangement with the orcs?"
Merhang gave a slight nod. "Yes, that's exactly what the reports indicate."
Nebesko, ever the hardliner, grumbled under his breath. "Maybe we should've marched the imperial army in to clear the area when we had the chance."
The King sighed, recognizing Nebesko's familiar refrain. He had pushed for military action from the start, but deploying the main army would have left key regions vulnerable. Nebesko’s tendency to fixate on one problem often led him to overlook the broader strategic picture.
Merhang, undeterred, continued. "I propose we send an emissary to assess the situation firsthand. Lady Quersaw seems a fitting choice—she has the tact and the experience to handle this... delicately."
The king nodded thoughtfully. “That might be a good idea. Lady Quersaw is sagacious, shrewd, and reliable. However, I’ve also been considering sending Kotu. He and the baroness have met and seemed to have at least superficially bonded.”
“Prince Kotusawendu?” Fiona raised an eyebrow.
The king nodded again.
“Do you plan to send Lady Fara with him?” Fiona asked, her voice carefully neutral.
The king snorted, clearly irritated. It was no secret that the prince was stubbornly devoted to Fara, the bedridden daughter of a count. Kotu refused to leave her side for more than a few days, much to everyone's frustration. Perhaps it was time to address that.
“There’s a way around that," the king said with a dismissive wave. "Fara doesn’t need to travel. We wouldn’t force the poor thing out of her sickbed. Besides, your yearly ball is coming up soon, isn’t it, Fiona?”
Fiona’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “Yes, it is. What’s the plan?”
“Could you invite Princess Therella?” the king asked, his voice laced with subtle intrigue.
“Of course,” Fiona replied, then hesitated. “You want to marry Prince Kotusawendu to an elf?”
The king sighed heavily. “The fool should at least procreate if he’s not capable of gaining any levels. Elves are good with magic—that should strengthen his line.”
“So, should I no longer send Lady Quersaw?” Merhang asked, still seeking clarity.
“We need to determine if this baroness is a threat to the kingdom or not," the king replied. "Send her with my son. They can stop by the barony on their way to Cromwall.”
“But that’s quite a detour, isn’t it?” Fiona wondered aloud.
The king’s smile deepened, clearly satisfied with his own strategy. “Yes, exactly. But they'll have to wait at the barony for Therella and ensure her safe passage. The barony borders the elven kingdom, so it’s the perfect excuse for them to linger there for a while.”
Fiona exchanged a glance with Merhang who nodded.
“Isn’t that route too close to the orc tribes’ territory?” Archmage Flores asked, her brow furrowed. “The barony borders those lands as well.”
The King waved a hand dismissively. “Does our baroness not already have an orc squad defending her? This will be a good test. Let’s see where their true allegiances lie.”
Nebesko chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Fara’s not going to like this at all!”
The King shot him a sharp glare, though Nebesko only shrugged, unperturbed. Being the highest level in the kingdom had its privileges, and one of them was being the only person bold enough to joke with the King.