A sudden knock on the door made Joan’s eyes shoot open. What in the world? Had she actually fallen asleep?

The pain in her back and neck from the wooden tub told her that she had. She hadn’t thought she’d been that tired. Or maybe she was just relaxed. Either way, her cheeks burned with embarrassment and she quickly climbed out. “Yes? Who is it?”

“Joan?” Andreas voice came through the door. “Are you okay? We’re about to have dinner.”

“Oh, yes, I’ll be there in a minute. Go on ahead without me, I know the way,” Joan called after him before she quickly used a water spell to dry herself.

“Is something wrong? We thought you’d have come out by now,” Andreas asked.

“I’m fine, really,” Joan said. Ugh, how long had she been asleep? She glanced out the window. It was still light out, so likely not very long. Either way she couldn’t stop herself from feeling foolish. She yanked open her wardrobe. “I just need a minute, please!”

“Well, if you’re sure. We’ll be in the dining hall, see you there,” Andreas said before she heard him walking away.

Joan let out a sigh of relief before she quickly rummaged through the few bits of clothes she had. Maybe it was time that she had more than three or four outfits, rather than abandoning them all whenever she had to travel.

Joan found her mind drifting to some of the ancient garments they’d found on their adventures. The Hero had even managed to acquire, for a short time, ‘changeling weave’. Clothing often used by changelings that could alter its appearance to their whims. Incredibly rare, incredibly valuable. So of course they had ended up selling it because ‘who needs fancy clothes on a whim?’ Of course, she knew that she’d wanted to keep it then but there was no way for the Hero to justify something like that. She wondered if it would be okay for Joan to have something like that?

She rested her forehead against the side of the wardrobe. No, it wouldn’t. No hero should care this much about clothes, was it another reason she’d failed? Probably not. Surely other heroes had their little quirks in the past, things they enjoyed that they weren’t supposed to. Or maybe she really was just the outlier. Then again, if she was the same soul as every past hero, then surely the others had felt the same way.

But she couldn’t remember any tales about heroes who had considered wearing dresses or enjoyed things like that. Why would a hero need to be ‘pretty’ anyway? They were constantly off fighting different monsters and saving the world, they didn’t have time to worry about their looks. They might as well--

Joan shook her head and focused once more on the task at hand. Right. Clothing. She sighed and tossed on her normal clothes. Dresses didn’t travel well, anyway. Not to mention they’d likely just get torn up or incinerated. And it wasn’t like she--

Joan lightly slapped her cheeks and shook her head. “Stop. It. Not right now. Focus. Fo-cus,” she repeated to herself before looking around the wardrobe again. She had a brush, she remembered taking it out of her bags and putting it in here somewhere. She just had to remember where. It was a testament to how little she had in her room that she was able to find the brush in a few seconds. Sadly, her room no longer had a mirror of any kind and she certainly couldn’t cast the mirroring spells that Korgron could, so she had to brush it to the best of her ability and just hope it was straight enough. She wished Bauteut was here, the healer would have made sure she was as pretty as possible before having her first meal with her best friend’s mother. Or at the very least relieved some of the worries.

It really didn’t help that, thanks to falling asleep in the water like she had, her hands and feet were all wrinkly now. So long as she wore her boots and gloves it was at least hidden, but she wondered if it was weird to wear dueling gloves to a meal. She hoped not.

Joan sighed and wondered if she was overthinking it. If she was a little overdressed it wasn’t like anybody would care.

------

Joan took a slow, deep breath, standing outside the dining hall. Just one door stood between her and the rest of them. She could hear talking from the room and she wondered what they were discussing. Local politics? Weather? The fate of the world? Perhaps even her? Oh gosh she hoped not her. She leaned against the door and tried to listen in…

Only to have it suddenly pull open and have Thalgren standing there, an amused look on his face. When she stumbled forward without the door supporting her he quickly caught her and righted her once more. “I told you, she struck me as a listener.”

Joan stared up at him, her cheeks burning. “That’s cheating, you know.”

“It’s not my fault the floor is stone,” Thalgren said before walking to the table and taking a seat.

The table was far larger than she expected, easily allowing two dozen or even more to sit at it. Fortunately, considering there were only the four Chosen, Zorn and Vivian that meant there were plenty of seats left empty. Joan started towards the table, intending to sit by Korgron, which just so happened to be one of the seats furthest from Vivian.

“Joan? Why don’t you come sit over here,” Vivian’s voice came out.

Joan tried not to cringe, instead giving a small nod and a smile. “That sounds great,” she said before turning and walking towards her. Hardwin had his seat at this end of the table as well, of course he did. He, technically, was the head of the keep now. Though Joan couldn’t help but suspect Vivian held more sway than he did. There was a seat open besides him and across from Vivian. She quickly moved around the table and sat at that one, keeping her eyes lowered.

An uncomfortable silence was filling the air now and Joan couldn’t bring herself to look up. There was food on the table, plates as well. Yet nobody was touching anything or serving themselves. Instead she just felt as if every eye was on her. Probably because they likely were. Joan tried to keep her breathing steady and suppress the urge to panic. The last thing any of them needed was her having a meltdown over a simple meal. Was she supposed to start grabbing food first? Shouldn’t Hardwin? He was the Chosen and head of the keep. Was her new ‘grandmother’ picking at every single visible flaw Joan had? Or was this just supposed to be--

“So do we just grab what we want or are there supposed to be servants who fill our plates?” Korgron’s voice rang out. “I’m not exactly from here, but I am hungry.”

Joan could have kissed the demon for that interruption.

“Oh dear,” Vivian said. “Hardwin, you didn’t tell her?”

“Tell her what?” Hardwin asked and, to Joan’s relief, he sounded almost as confused as her.

Vivian sighed and when she spoke up once more it was with a tired, almost lecturing tone. “Hardwin, we’ve been over this. Ahem. Traditionally when having important guests, the Lord of the Keep is supposed to give a toast in honor of the guests of honor. In this case, the Chosen.”

“Oh, right,” Hardwin said before clearing his throat and picking up his mug, lifting it into the air. “Uhhhh… the Chosen will save the world. Let’s eat.”

Joan couldn’t help it, she tried to stop herself, but even with her hands over her mouth she couldn’t suppress it entirely. She started to laugh. Within a few moments she wasn’t the only one, everyone else beginning to laugh as well, except for Hardwin and Thalgren.

Hardwin rolled his eyes. “Would you prefer something long or do you want to eat?” He didn’t wait for an answer and instead began to serve his own food.

Still, if nothing else the tension had finally been broken. The food wasn’t bad, either. Simple, a bit plain after the strong, spicy foods of the demons. But unlikely to kill her even if she did take off her enchanted amulet. Not that she ever would.

“So then, Joan?” Vivian asked.

“Hm?” Joan asked before swallowing and drinking from her mug. Apple cider, not very strong but certainly nice. Once she could speak again she nodded. “Yes?”

“In all the letters that my son sent me, there was one thing that was always strikingly missing from his letters,” Vivian said.

“Oh? What?” Joan asked. She wondered if it was going to be related to magic. She hoped not, compared to Hardwin she was already likely only a passable mage at best. At least with a sword she could, feasibly, compare to him. She didn’t want to have to try and match his fire magic especially.

“Who is your mother?” Vivian asked.

And just like that the tension was back, Hardwin nearly choked on a carrot and had to pound his chest before drinking heavily from his mug. “Mother, I told you before that--”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Oh, come now,” Vivian said with a small smile. “Surely there must be some thought as to who she belongs to.”

Joan coughed and quickly focused on a small piece of roast on her plate. “North east of here. A small village.”

“Oh? See? You never mentioned that,” Vivian said. “In fact, you barely mentioned anything about her. And as her grandmother, it’s only natural I know as much about her as I can. Isn’t it?”

“Mother,” Hardwin said.

“Yes?” Vivian asked. “Unless of course there’s something you want to tell me?”

Joan’s head shot up and she stared at the woman. The knowing smirk on Vivian’s face, the amused glint in her eyes. The way Hardwin was just as focused on his meal as she had been.

She knew. Joan felt a moment of shock, her cheeks going bright red. She couldn’t believe it. Vivian knew, didn’t she? Was she just toying with them?

No. No way. Joan shook her head. “I don’t remember much about my mother. Much of anything before the orphanage, actually. I just remember the river, mostly.”

“Really, you don’t say,” Vivian said before glancing to Hardwin again. “Well, I am happy that you’re not a much better liar than my son. I’m curious, do the rest of you know exactly what’s going on here?”

The other Chosen quickly lowered their gazes, even Korgron. Vivian gave a soft sigh before shaking her head. “I see. Well, no matter. I’ve been wondering how long until I would have a grandchild. I was hoping they’d be your actual child, but I suppose this is as close as I can expect.”

“What?” Joan asked, panic going through her now. Oh, she definitely knew. “What do you mean? I--”

“Joan, please,” Vivian said. “I knew from the first letter I received from my son that something was certainly up. Then when I finally saw you, well… it wasn’t hard to figure out. You don’t look anything like him.”

Joan blinked a few times and looked towards Hardwin for a moment, then down at herself. “He’s a Chosen. I can’t exactly compare.”

“Oh, I’ve heard your quite incredible none the less, dear. Don’t sell yourself short,” Vivian said. “In fact, since I first heard about you I had to call in quite a few favors to learn what I could about you. And you know what I learned?”

The tension was definitely in the air now and Joan wished Hardwin would say something. Unfortunately, he seemed more than willing to just leave her to flounder alone. Not that she could blame him. “What did you learn?” Joan asked.

“Almost nothing,” Vivian said. “Aside from being a prodigy, nobody seemed to have any idea who you were. No family records, nobody who seemed to know where you came from. I even reached out to your fighting company, the Diamond Birds.”

“Crystal Phoenixes,” Joan said softly.

“Exactly. And do you know what they said? They told me that you were a one in a million chance. It took me quite a bit to find out even that. They were unable to uncover anything about you either. Or, at least, nothing damning. Now, don’t get me wrong,” Vivian said. “You’re hardly the first child who was lost during this war, records stripped. There are even rumors of entire families disappearing with only one or two children remaining. However, in your case? It’s almost like you didn’t exist.”

“Wait, what?” Joan asked, unable to keep herself from asking. “I mean, there had to be something, didn’t there?”

Vivian paused, the smile on her face wavering. “I’m sorry?”

“I mean, they had to have found out at least something, right? I didn’t just pop out of nowhere, I know I didn’t,” Joan said.

Vivian blinked a few times before glancing to Hardwin, her voice filled with concern. “She does know, doesn’t she?”

“That she’s not my daughter? Yes,” Hardwin said with a sigh. “I really wish you would have talked to me about this beforehand. Not called us out on it in the middle of everyone.”

“Oh, no, please, go on,” Korgron said. “This is highly amusing and the best entertainment I’ve received since coming here. Though, on that note. If you don’t want her, I’m still happy to take her for myself. I’d be happy to have a little sister.”

Joan perked up and opened her mouth to ask her if she was serious, then paused. “Wait. That would make me Isla’s little sister too. I’m not sure I could handle being both of your little sisters.”

“No, she’s not my daughter,” Hardwin said, ignoring her.

“And I’m the only one who didn’t know?” Vivian asked.

Joan glanced to Zorn, waiting for him to say something. Unfortunately, everyone was silent. “Well?” Joan asked. “Zorn, you didn’t know, did you?”

“Wellll…” Zorn said, focusing on his plate. “This is very good roast.”

“Oh come on!” Joan said. “Thalgren, did you tell him everything?”

“He made a vow of secrecy,” Thalgren said.

“Oh, okay then,” Joan said, finally getting some relief at hearing that. If Zorn was anything other than a dwarf, that vow wouldn’t have meant as much as… actually, now that she thought about it she really did take vows of secrecy maybe a bit better than she should have. Then again, she only told a few people outside of the Chosen. It just sometimes felt like everybody she knew and was close to knew these days. She gave a sigh and glanced back to Vivian and then Hardwin. “I mean, she’s your mother. The queen and king know, Bauteut knows, a few demons know, Zorn knows.”

“You just love to tell everyone, don’t you?” Hardwin asked. “A little self control, maybe? You were the one who wanted to keep this silent.”

“It’s not like I have a guide or anything for this,” Joan said. “It’s kind of a throwing everything I have at the wall and hoping we don’t all die again in the process. She’s your mom, you make the choice.”

Hardwin lifted a hand to his forehead and gently rubbed it. “You’re going to be the source of so many headaches, aren’t you? Why even ask me to do this if you were just going to tell everyone anyway?”

“Hey, I never told you to tell anyone I was your daughter,” Joan said quickly. “I just wanted to save the world. You were the one who was all ‘Oh, no, she’s my daughter.’ If I hadn’t been dying at the time I would have said it was a silly idea.”

“And your oracle idea was much better?” Hardwin asked.

“I mean, if we were in for the whole ‘I’m your daughter’ thing, then why not? If anyone is going to be an oracle it’s going to be the child of a Chosen. Probably. I don’t know,” Joan said, her own frustration growing. “History of oracles isn’t something I really studied up on. I mean, I know a lot of people CLAIM to be an oracle, and some have been fairly successful. But it’s not exactly something I had a lot of time to think about.”

“Ummm…” Andreas said.

“Well maybe if you hadn’t run off and tried to get yourself killed, I wouldn’t have had to spend so much time trying to keep you alive and would have been able to come up with a better story,” Hardwin said back, his eyes narrowed on her.

“Well I couldn’t know that was going to happen! It wasn’t exactly like I was used to my sword literally shattering in my hand,” Joan said, glaring right back at him. “And the troll was hardly something I expected to be an issue. It was the first thing! The bare minimum!”

“That was hardly the bare minimum!” Hardwin yelled at her. “To nobody is that the bare minimum!”

“It kind of was to all of us!” Joan yelled right back. “I was younger the first time! I’d already beaten it easily! We were destroying entire armies of that thing by the end! Besides, it wasn’t even fully grown! How was I supposed to know it was that durable? Or I wasn’t? I never hit it with a normal sword before!”

“Err, Hardwin? Joan?” Vivian said.

“You shouldn’t have run at it like that anyway!” Hardwin yelled, now standing up. “If you’re so damned important, maybe treat yourself like it! Then come up with your own cover stories!”

Joan stood up as well, glaring right back. “I’m NOT the important one here! That’s the whole point! It doesn’t matter what happens to me so long as I get all of you to work things out correctly! THAT is the whole point of me even being here! And I’ve gotten better about it! Last time I almost died I was poisoned! And that was AFTER I ran into a fully grown inferno troll and surviving! So my methods are improving!”

“Wait, what?” Hardwin asked, his eyes going wide. “A fully grown one of those things? When? Why hadn’t you told me about this?”

“Oh yeah, I didn’t tell you about that part,” Joan said, blinking a few times. She then became distinctly aware that everyone at the table was now staring at the pair of them. Very slowly she sat back down, her cheeks burning. “I ummm… sorry. Right. I am not his daughter.”

“I noticed,” Vivian said. “Although, admittedly, I am now more interested than ever in discovering who exactly you are.”

Joan sighed and then motioned to Hardwin. “Well, as I said, she’s your mother.”

“So many headaches…” Hardwin said.

‘Joan?’ Korgron’s voice asked in her head.

Joan almost answered, but then realized it was the shadow spell of Andreas’. She glanced over towards him and he gave a nod. ‘Yes? Who all is here?’

‘Me, you, Thalgren, Zorn and Korgron,’ Andreas said over the bond.

‘Sorry about this,’ Joan said. ‘I didn’t mean to make it awkward.’

‘I don’t think you had much choice,’ Korgron said. ‘Wanna escape?’

‘Yes please,’ Joan said.

‘Eat quickly, then,’ Korgron said before clearing her throat. “If I may have a moment of your time?”

“Hm?” Vivian asked before glancing over to her. “Yes?”

“After this meal, I’d like to setup a teleportation array, if we return here often it’ll be useful. Joan, would you be able to come help me?” Korgron asked.

“Yes please,” Joan said. “You can take some time to explain to your mom who I am, ‘daddy’.” Was it the smart thing to say there? No. But Joan couldn’t resist nudging her old friend just a little bit. Even if she knew she really shouldn’t be angering him now.

“I think that is a fine idea,” Vivian said. “Would you like a room for it?”

“No, no, I’ll set it up in the main courtyard,” Korgron said. “No need to trouble yourself.”

“Well, if you’re certain,” Vivian said.

Joan stuffed a little bit of roast in her mouth. There was one positive at least. It was still not the most nerve wracking meal she’d ever been in with Hardwin. For one, neither of them were currently turned into mushrooms. It was still in the top ten, though.