Just as I was preparing to head to the evening meal, a very pale and visibly shaken Dame Elanea burst through the doorway. Her helm dangled loosely from her left hand, her usually immaculate hair in disarray. She was breathing hard, as if she’d just sprinted across the entire castle, and the look on her face was enough to make anyone’s stomach drop.
“A catastrophe has happened, my prince!” she gasped out, struggling to catch her breath. “The elven delegation has arrived—and they’re demanding to speak with you immediately!”
“Where are they?” I asked, my mind racing.
“Outside the castle gates, waiting for His Highness,” Dame Elanea replied, letting out a heavy sigh.
“Why don’t they come inside? Is it because of the orcs?” I pressed.
The prince placed a steadying hand on my shoulder.
“Perhaps we should first hear what Dame Elanea has to say,” he suggested quietly.
I swallowed hard, realizing he was right. Dame Elanea turned to me, her piercing, icy gaze locking onto mine.
“They speak of war,” she declared grimly. “Princess Therella has been captured—likely killed—by orcs. The elven delegation demands to know where our prince stands in this conflict.”
War with elves had always been a pain in the ass. Their low birth rate meant they lacked the numbers, but their children were born with a natural advantage in magic, often starting at levels between ten and, in rare cases, fifty or sixty. Royal lineages consistently reached the higher end of this spectrum. Coupled with their incredible longevity, this allowed them to attain exceptional levels over time.
However, their aversion to violence, their cautious, risk-averse tendencies with many elves living secluded in their villages for centuries, gaining only a handful of levels as they tended orchards or cultivated fruit, made them reluctant warriors.
Even so, those who did reach the highest levels were a force to be reckoned with. These old monsters rarely took direct action. Their mere presence—or the threat of their involvement—was usually enough to bend situations to their will.
To hear them speak openly of war was, therefore, a turbocharged escalation. Then again, the death of a royal could warrant such a dramatic shift.
Dame Elanea, noticing my shock and confusion, seemed to revel in it, her lips curling into a sly grin as she added,
"So yes, they won’t step now inside because of the orcs— they’ll come in after their reinforcements arrive. Perhaps you should make yourself scarce by then, Lady Lores, as their plan seems to involve taking over and razing the castle."
"Why would they attack the castle? We don’t have the princess here!" I stammered.
"They seem to think otherwise," she replied with a nonchalant shrug, then turned to the prince with a pointed look.
"Your Highness, my advice is to distance ourselves from the orcs immediately. We need to avoid any implication that the Kingdom is involved in this catastrophe."
The prince nodded, his expression unreadable.
"Dame Elanea, your advice is appreciated. I will consult with Sir Gamesh and Lady Lores before making any decisions. For now, we must speak with the elves to understand what has happened. The mere presence of orcs here isn’t sufficient cause to declare war. Is this everything you know about the situation?"
I couldn’t help but be impressed by how composed and mature he acted under the circumstances.
Dame Elanea let out a faint sigh of disappointment but quickly straightened, her expression tightening as she replied, "Yes, Your Majesty!"
"I need to talk to Drackar," I said abruptly, standing up.
The prince gave a small nod. "We’ll meet in the yard before speaking with the elves. Let’s approach them together."
"Okay," I replied, already heading for the door. From the corner of my eye, I caught Sir Gamesh wincing at my casual tone towards the prince. But right now, I had no time for such formalities.
To move faster, I shifted into shadow form, sweeping up my belongings before they even touched the ground. Finally, I’d mastered using my inventory in this form.
Dame Elanea yelped in surprise, shuddering as though a chill had run down her spine. "Brrr. I always get frissons when she does that!" she muttered, glancing around warily, as though expecting the shadows to reach out. "It’s so creepy! Like she’s some kind of ghost!"
The prince chuckled softly, while Sir Gamesh released a long-suffering sigh. "There may be some unpleasant decisions that need to be made, Your Highness," he said gravely.
As I crossed the yard, I found it buzzing with unrest. Word of the elves’ arrival was spreading fast, and everyone was eager to learn more. In a quieter corner, Drackar was deep in conversation with Ju.
I materialized beside them, cloaked in shadow just long enough to reappear dressed in an illusion. Drackar's reaction told me he had sensed my approach; his hand had instinctively gone to the pommel of his sword, but he didn’t draw it, merely relaxing as he turned to face me.
“What’s going on?” I asked, wasting no time.
Drackar sighed, shaking his head. “Oh, good to see you Lady Lores! Unfortunately, we know only what the elves’ envoy relayed to that paladin at the main door. The eastern riverbank—the area they traveled through—hasn’t been patrolled as requested by the prince through to Sir Gamesh and your Alice.” His voice grew heavy. “Besides that, two of our kids are missing.”
“How old and what level are these kids?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at Drackar. “And where did they go?”
“Fifteen and seventeen,” he replied, “Both are sons of Drell, a soldier from the fifth company. Their levels are around ten. They’d mentioned wanting to go hunting but knew full well they shouldn’t venture into that area today.”
“Are there many orc children here?” I asked, tilting my head in curiosity. I couldn’t recall seeing any.
“No,” Drackar said with a shake of his head. “Our families typically stay in settlements within the tribal lands. However, Drell’s wife passed recently, and Wetina allowed him to bring the boys here to live with the troop. Drell believed her death wasn’t an accident, which is why he wanted them close.”
I winced hearing that. “Ugh. Could these kids possibly have anything to do with the princess’s disappearance?”
Drackar let out a long sigh. “I can’t imagine how. There’s no clear connection between the two events. However, we need to send search parties for the boys. Should they go on the eastern riverbank too?”
I exchanged a quick glance with Ju, but before I could decide what to do, I spotted the prince stepping into the yard, fully armed and ready to meet the elves. Turning back to Drackar, I spoke quickly.
"Hold off on sending the search troops until we’ve spoken with the elves,” I said. “I’ll ask Sid to scout from above.”
He nodded silently. As I started toward the prince, Ju caught my arm.
“Maybe don’t go to meet the elves wearing illusions,” she suggested.
I sighed, knowing she was right. Quickly, I cloaked the area in front of me with another layer of illusions and hurriedly changed into my dress. As I wrestled to pull the fine dress over my horns without skewering it in my haste, I vowed that one day, I’d master doing this straight from my inventory.
Midway through, Sid’s voice buzzed in my mind, already responding to my telepathic call.
“Mom, I saw a couple of young orcs spying on the elves earlier. Should I check if the elves have them?”
My stomach twisted. Oh, no! Not this!
"Don't go," I told Sid, irritation creeping into my voice. If that was the case, I already had a good idea where they might be. "I'll check myself. Where are you?"
"In my tower with my guest! Would you like to come?"
I sighed. His tone was cheerful, and there was a hint of pride in his voice. It was clear he wanted to show me something, but this was absolutely the worst time for one of his games.
"Not now, Sid. Maybe later."
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
As I turned toward the prince, Lyn hurried over, urgency written all over his face.
"We need to talk!" he said.
I let out another sigh. Why does everyone want to talk when there's no time, and the house is figuratively burning down around us?
"Not now, Lyn. I'm going to meet the elves. We can talk after this," I explained, trying to keep my tone steady.
He looked like he wanted to protest but thought better of it. With a curt nod, he turned and made his way toward the parapet, his steps heavy with frustration.
Pleasantly surprised that Lyn had listened without a word of protest, I quickly joined the prince. Despite Dame Elanea’s insistence that the elves wanted to speak solely with him, the prince stated that, as the baroness of the domain, I should also attend. It suited me perfectly.
The delegation consisted of the prince, myself, Sir Gamesh, and three other paladins. Ju would follow discreetly behind with Alice. Although Ju had previously mentioned that elves held little regard for those of their kind who worked with humans—especially in servile roles like hers—she reluctantly agreed to accompany me after a moment’s hesitation.
The situation grew complicated as the paladins arrived with their horses, including the prince's. Watching them prepare, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of unease. Horses and I had a less-than-amicable history—every single one I'd ridden so far seemed to take great joy in either throwing me off or outright refusing my presence. Even the "gentle" mare only tolerated me when Kurr or Ju intervened to calm her.
I was just about to ask Ju if she could help me with the mare again when, coming out of the barn, my lynx mount appeared, striding confidently across the yard. For a split second, I was baffled, instinctively glancing toward the parapet where Lyn still stood. Then it hit me—it was only an illusion.
I couldn’t suppress a happy chuckle as I climbed onto its back.
"You thought you'd leave without me, eh?" Lynx grumbled in his beast tongue, his low growl carrying just the right amount of sass.
"I missed you too," I replied, brushing my hand over his shoulder. He let out a deep, rumbling chuckle in response, his stride steady as we set off.
We left the castle at a deliberate pace, the tension palpable. Two of the paladins rode beside us, their staffs held high, casting a soft glow of holy light over our group. The ethereal sheen felt oddly comforting.
I glanced at the prince, riding just ahead of me. His demeanor towards me had always been friendly, but ever since I’d orchestrated his chats with Fara, he had started treating me like an old comrade.
When we were about fifty paces from their camp, two figures emerged from the shadows. One was a warrior, his stance rigid and imposing, and the other a priestess whose aura radiated calm authority.
The warrior raised a hand, his voice sharp and commanding. "No step closer, humans!"
I pinged them. The warrior was level ninety-six, and the priestess—a remarkable level ninety-nine. The strongest individuals I’d encountered so far. Well, aside from me, of course.
As we halted as instructed, the priestess stepped forward, her gaze sharp.
“Give me my little T’rella back! Is she still alive? What ransom do you want?!” the priestess cried, her voice trembling with both fear and anger.
I tilted my head, letting out a sigh. Her pain was palpable.
“If I knew where she was, she would already be here with us,” I replied, dismounting Lynx in a flutter of satin.
As I landed, a wet splash reached my ears, and I felt the cold seeping into my shoes. A glance downward revealed the treacherous puddle I’d leapt into. Mud oozed over the edges of my soft, lovely shoes, staining them. At least it wasn’t as bad as the mine’s endless muck, but still—a pang of regret hit me. Maybe I should’ve take the time to put on my boots.
The warrior’s sharp voice interrupted my thoughts, addressing the paladins. “Is the beastgirl speaking for the prince?”
I raised my head, meeting his gaze. “My name is Lores of Orcmound. I own this castle, and you are on my land. With me is His Highness, Prince Kotusawendu, and members of his suite. Now, who are you, and what is it you seek?”
The prince, standing slightly behind me, seemed content to let me lead the exchange. His quiet confidence emboldened me, though the tension in the air was palpable.
The priestess studied me with suspicion, while the warrior, responded with a dismissive shrug.
“I am General Wogt Thunderstrike, and this is Vice-Queen Levaite Hara,” he declared, his tone sharp and commanding. “Even from here, I can tell your castle is crawling with orcs, ‘Lady’ Lores.” His emphasis on my title dripped with disdain.
“So, little orc servant,” he continued, as though addressing someone far beneath him, “we’ve been tracking the assassins who ambushed our princess and captured your orc scouts in the process. For your own good, I hope the princess hasn’t been harmed! The sooner she’s returned to us, the fewer problems you’ll have.” He pointed toward the castle with a threatening gesture. “Release her immediately, or you won’t have a castle by the time this is over!”
I kept my tone measured, though his words grated on me. “What scouts and what assassins are you talking about?” I asked, “What did happen, why is your princess missing if you chased the culprits?”
The general stepped closer, his face darkening, but the priestess silenced him with a sudden exclamation.
“Juliletta?” Vice-Queen Levaite’s voice was filled with disbelief.
I turned toward the source of her surprise and saw Julietta approaching us with calm poise.
“Hello, Aunt Levaite,” Julietta said in elvish, her tone polite but sad. “It’s nice to see you again—though I wish it were under better circumstances.”
“Julietta Trachenorma?” the elf warrior, Wogt, exclaimed, his expression torn between shock and suspicion.
“Hello, nephew!” Julietta replied, offering a slight nod.
Oh, wonderful, I thought. An elf family reunion on my doorstep.
“What are you doing here, girl?” the priestess, Levaite, interjected. Her sharp eyes scanned Julietta. “There are many rumors about you. Are you free to speak your mind?”
“Yes, Aunt Levaite, I am free to speak my mind,” Julietta assured her. Then, with a faint smirk, she added, “Just so you know, Lores speaks Elvish too.”
The priestess’s eyebrows rose. Her gaze shifted to me and she inclined her head slightly.
“Hello again, Lady Lores,” she said. “I did not know you were one of the initiates.”
It was my turn to raise a brow, confused by the implication. It seemed that merely speaking Elvish carried some weight.
"Hello Vice-Queen!" I said nodding
“Her speaking Elvish doesn’t mean she’s on our side,” Wogt said, gesturing dismissively toward me.
“Aunt Levaite,” Julietta cut in, her voice firm, “can you tell us what has happened? I’ll translate for the prince,” she offered, glancing at Kotusawendu.
The vice-queen hesitated for a moment before nodding, her expression softening slightly.
“On our way here, we passed by the shrine of Haerea, our Goddess of the Shadows,” Levaite began, her voice steady but tinged with sorrow. “The shrine lies on the border between our two kingdoms. Therella, as is tradition, went for her pilgrimage. Everyone must face the Goddess of the Shadows alone—so it is in death, and so it is in pilgrimage."
“To ensure her safety, General Wogt went ahead. As the area was deemed secure, Therella entered alone and I followed at a distance, as is required, keeping far enough away so that we could not see one another—any intrusion would render the pilgrimage invalid. Others from our group were also performing their pilgrimages and followed behind me.”
Levaite paused, her expression darkening. “As I neared the shrine, I was ambushed by a pair of vicious assassins. Only my swift reaction and the power granted to me by our gods allowed me to survive. By the time General Wogt reached me, the attackers had fled. That was when we realized that my little T'rella was missing.
“We immediately sounded the alarm, and our troops began a search.” Her voice wavered slightly before she composed herself, a faint flicker of pain in her eyes.
"Our warriors discovered two young scouts who confessed to spying on us and relaying information about our pilgrimage through a magic scroll," the vice-queen said, her tone laced with frustration. "They clearly knew about the shrine and how the pilgrimage must be conducted—they set a trap based on that knowledge. The scouts also admitted they came from this castle."
She paused, raising her gaze to meet mine. "Now, tell me—what do you have to say in your defense?"
I took a deep breath, my mind racing. I had a suspicion about who the scouts were, but had they truly done this? Could Drackar have lied to me? I exchanged a glance with Ju, seeking her silent counsel: too bad she wasn't a telephat like Sid.
"I need to speak with the prisoners," I said.
The general huffed, clearly unimpressed, but the vice-queen stepped closer, taking my hands in hers. Her eyes searched mine, filled with desperation.
"Please," she said softly, "help us find my little T’rella."
Then, turning to Ju, she added with a touch of warmth, "Will you stay with us for a while? There is so much I wish to talk to you about..."
Even as I sympathized with the vice-queen’s plight, her request raised some unsettling questions. Was she hoping to take Ju as leverage until the missing princess was found? I exchanged a quick glance with Ju. She couldn’t stray far from the ring, and this place was too far from the castle.
"I’ll leave Alice with you," I said finally, noticing the hopeful glint in her eyes that betrayed her desire to stay.
With that, I turned my attention to the two orc prisoners. They looked very much like the teenagers Drackar had described— and now unnervingly docile. Their glassy eyes and monotone speech made it evident they had been dosed with some kind of truth serum. They spoke freely, mechanically recounting the events as I’d heard them from the vice-queen.
“How could these low-level idiots have slipped past the scrutiny of the elves?” Lynx grumbled, padding up beside me. His low growl startled both the prisoners and their elven guards, who stiffened visibly.