“Thank you,” says the handmaiden.

We’re back in the princess’s quarters now. Having let the child go with the half-breeds to their secret kingdom. Hidden in some undisclosed location like it’s a secret base in a James Bond film.

“I don’t know that I can trust you anymore Bhess,” says the Princess. She doesn't sound angry. Just matter of fact.

The handmaiden hangs her head. “I understand.”

“It’s not a matter of the half-breed,” Vestra says. “It’s that you didn’t say anything. You didn’t tell me.”

Bhess raises her head a bit. “You didn’t tell your father about your plans with Sir Ethan.”

“I’m about to, Bess. And that is not the point.”

“No,” I interject. “That is the point.”

The princess jerks her head to me. Her red eyes are burning. “Can I speak to you for a minute?”

She pulls me aside to the corner of the room while the handmaiden waits on the bed.

“This isn’t really your business,” she says frankly. “I listened to you outside, and I don’t regret it, but how I manage my handmaids is by business.”

“No,” I reply firmly. “I’m involved now. You wouldn’t have found out about Bhess’’s activities if I hadn’t asked about her whereabouts.”

“I had my suspicions,” she retorts. “She’d been leaving at odd hours, taking longer breaks. She’s clearly part of some larger group concerned with the half-breeds. It must be operating in the mountains.”

“And why is it such a big deal anyways?” I ask. “Who cares if the kid is a half-breed? I mean if we had a child would we have to hide it away?”

The princess jolts back.

“Ugh. Sorry. I just meant – as an example. I’m just saying like what if you didn’t marry a goblin.”

“I have to marry a goblin.”

“Why? Why is it so important to you?”

“It’s not to me. It’s just to society. Maybe it’s different for elves and humans. I’ve heard you all are closer. But for goblins, and especially for dwarves, intermarriage is a lot more suspicious. It’s viewed as polluting the culture.”

“It’s sharing,” I say. “It’s growing together.”

The princess puts her hands on her hips. “Look, you don’t have to convince me, alright. But the goblins and dwarves are different alright. We had it the hardest after the war. We’re more geographically isolated. We’re smaller, less powerful. We had to struggle to preserve our heritage. If I’m to lead the goblins one day they will have to trust me and if I married someone who isn’t a goblin –”

“They won’t trust you. They’ll think your loyalties are compromised.”

I guess it makes some sense. I mean it’s not like the American president is allowed to be Canadian. Sometimes you gotta pick sides in politics.

“Ok,” I say. “Ok, I get it. But that child, and your handmaiden, they aren’t royalty. They’re just normal people.”

“They are. And they’re my people, Sir Ethan. As I said, it’s not your call.”

I sigh. “It’s not. I know. But we’re supposed to be partners, right? We work together. And I’m saying that punishing her is wrong.”

The princess squints at me. “Why do you care so much about this goblin you don’t even know?”

It’s a good question. Why do I have such a vested interest? Before I came to Astria I rarely involved myself in the affairs of others. I never butted into peoples private lives unless asked, and sometimes not even then. It’s true that something has changed.

I close my eyes and feel the light flicker inside me. “I’m the Maker’s chosen, Vestra. That doesn't just mean vanquishing evil but saving his peoples. All his peoples. Even half-breeds.”

The princess pauses and just looks at me with those red eyes and green skin.

I can’t believe I’m even here. Talking with this incredible goblin girl. A real-life goblin. How lucky am I?

“Sorry,” I mumble. “If that came off sappy or whatever. I’m not very good at explaining myself sometimes.”

Vestra gives my shoulder a squeeze. “I thought it was perfect.”

She walks back to the handmaiden and pulls up a seat beside her. I remain standing, giving the ladies a bit of space.

“You can stay with me Bhess,” Vestra says.

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

The handmaiden’s head pops up. “Really? You mean it?”

“You’ll have to tell me about the group you’re in. Maybe I can help. Maybe I can’t. But I have to know and you’ll have to be open with me. And you can’t take any action that would jeopardize me. I need to keep some distance from this operation. Sympathetic though I may be.”

“Thank you. I understand. Thank you.”

“Now, Ethan and I have to speak with my father. You’re to retire to your room until I call for you.”

Bhess stands to go.

“Wait,” I say, and both women turn to me.

I almost forgot.

I produce the letter and offer it to her. “I think this belongs to you.”

She looks down at the paper and back at me.

“It’s from an elf,” I say. He begged me to bring it to you. I assume it’s important.”

“An elf?” she asks.

“Yes, at the last elven checkpoint, before the mountain. Like I said – he was pretty desperate.”

Bhess unfolds the letter and reads slowly.

“What’s it say,” Princess Vestra asks.

My eyes go wide.

The princess looks at me. “She’s my handmaiden. Even if it’s a letter professing his undying love and admiration I have a right to know.”

“It’s not that,” Bess responds. She smiles thinly. “Nothing so romantic I’m afraid. It’s a warning.”

“A warning for what?” the princess asks.

The princess purses her lips. “It says that the sorceress has awoken the old gods.”

“Yes, he’s talking about the dryad,” I say. “Don’t worry though. I killed it.”

Bhess looks at the princess. “We have an old god as well.”

The princess’s face is thoughtful, then pales, her goblin green turning to lime. “Of course. The orcs. It’s the only explanation. The only terrible explanation.”

“The explanation for what?” I ask.

“Their behavior,” the princess says. “The change in tactics, their direction, and teamwork. Orcs don’t plan. Don’t strategize. Don’t work together. Something is guiding them.”

“The god of the mountain,” the handmaiden says quietly.

“A god of the mountain?” I ask. “Another dryad?”

The princess laughs dryly. “There are no sentient plants here, Ethan. The old god of the mountain is a dragon. A living creature. And powerful.”

“And dead,” says the handmaiden. “Or so the tales say.”

“We must talk to my father,” the princess says. “It’s more urgent than ever. If there is a dragon guiding the orcs then a direct attack is even more precarious than I thought.”

The princess turns to me. “You didn’t know about this?”

I shrug. “How should I know about a goblin dragon god?”

I never even came here in-game.

“The question,” I continue. “Is how did they know about it?”

“The border elves know the stories,” the handmaiden said. “They know our history almost as well as we do. And they hear other stories too. Stories from travelers beyond our lands, and rumors of events yet unknown to the powers that be.”

“That’s too cryptic for me,” I say.

“It means they gossip a lot,” says the princess. “Let’s go.”

“To your father?”

“Yes, the sooner the better,” she insists.

“But we haven’t decided what to say yet.”

“We can talk on the way.”

*Sidequest completed.*

*You completed a sidequest. I am noting your progress.*

*Side quest completion increases your skills but not as much as main quest completion. You do not receive a new title. But you do get a bonus to your abilities.*

*I think it’s unlikely. Think of it more like an asterisk or a gold star.*

*No, I believe I mentioned previously that magic is outside my purview.>

*It’s not what I was designed for.>

But the system says nothing.

“Sir Ethan,” the princess is urgent. “Are you paying attention? We have to go now.”

I shake my head. “Sorry, yes, I’m ready.”

The princess is looking at me, clearly concerned. “Ok, but don’t zone out on me again.”

So that’s what it looks like to others when I speak to the system. I just sort of space out. Noted.

We exit the room and I follow Vestra’s lead in the tunnels.

“It’s very important that you do as much of the talking as possible,” she says.

“Why’s that?” I ask.

“Because my father and I have a history of disagreement and I don’t want this issue to get caught-up in that drama.”

“Ok,” I say. “Makes sense. Anything else?”

“My mother might be there with him. She often spends time in his quarters when he’s free.”

“Why would she do that?” I ask suspiciously.

Vestra chuckles. “I dunno Ethan. I think they love each other or something.”

I wince. Oops. Right.

“Anyway,” she continues. “If she is there you’ll want to always address my father, but watch my mother. Try to read her a bit. Watch her body language. I can guarantee my father will.”

“Why doesn’t he just ask her what she thinks.”

“Oh he will. But sometimes it’s what goes unsaid that matters.”

Oh hell. This is gonna be just great.