“Where do you think you’re going?”

Orphelia suppressed a sigh. She debated ignoring the obvious challenge. There was no way a woman of such staunch morals would strike her back. She doubted Alana was capable of striking her at all without true provocation, as it would mean breaking the law she held so dear.

However, the interruption intruded on her panic. And Orphelia thought of something; she did not panic. That had been trained out of her. She could despair, certainly, but she did not allow circumstances to compromise her decisions. One of the most important keys to making effective decisions was to keep emotions out of them. They only hindered rationale.

She had not been thinking rationally when she practically ran out of the room. An all-encompassing fear had taken over her mind, telling her she needed to get away at all costs. It occurred to her that the fear might not have been her own.

How stupid. Why would she run away from Umphrieltalia? The dorm mother was not compromised. Even supposing the thrall had more skill, thralls were reported to have coefficients no larger than four hundred.

She didn’t know Umphrieltalia’s, as the number was something quite private amongst casters, but if they wanted her to be the next head interrogator, it had to at least be near five hundred, if not at or above. There was no way she would not detect an intrusion on her mind and she would win in a contest of pure power.

It was all a ploy to get her alone where the thrall could easily take care of her. And she would have fallen for it if not for the timely intervention of the future knight who stared at her like Orphelia was a pile of shit she had just stepped in.

As payment, Orphelia decided to entertain her. Really, she couldn’t help herself from poking the blonde and watching her squirm. Maybe it was jealously that Alana James, daughter of a duke, had gotten to lead a life she never could. Perhaps it was a quirk of her personality that had developed to enjoy the pain and discomfort of others. A saint could not do the work demanded of her.

Either way, she crafted a smug smile, one she knew would irritate the other woman.

“I don’t think that’s any of your concern, Lady James.” The frown morphed into a scowl. Orphelia didn’t understand Alana’s hatred of her title. If she had that kind of power, she certainly wouldn’t hesitate to use it. Someone who refused to use all the tools at their disposal was a fool.

“Lady Filigree did not see fit to detain me. I have not been charged with a crime. That makes me a free citizen of the kingdom, able to come and go as I please. There is much to be done in the wake of my friend’s untimely demise. I’m sure you understand.”

“You are a murderess. They were retreating. With how quickly you took them down, you could have simply injured them instead.”

“Thank you for the praise. My tutors taught me well, including to never show mercy to my enemies. A lion can be brought down by ants if it isn’t careful.”

“You could have taken out their mounts and signaled us for aide.”

“After you so recently left us to face the threat alone? Forgive me if I wasn’t willing to rely on your charity. Besides, I could hardly hold up my head if I allowed another one of my charges to die because I hesitated to do what needs to be done. I would think you knew about duty.”

“Duty?” Alana scoffed. “You were not thinking of your duty. Otherwise, you would have done everything in your power to ensure Ethor was detained with as few injuries as possible and he would be the one being interrogated rather than us. What has your actions accomplished? Nothing. You lost a team member and have gained absolutely nothing in return. And yet you proudly strut away as if all is well. It’s disgraceful.”

Orphelia’s smile twitched. She may be a forsaken daughter, her father’s tool, and perhaps she was lacking as a person, but she did have her pride. Pride that wouldn’t be trampled on by another ignorant, spoiled noble.

“Disgraceful, you say.” She stepped toward Alana but someone else ran toward her.

“Enough.” Robert held her arm tightly, reddened eyes narrowed. “Everyone is hurting. Fighting amongst ourselves won’t make it better.”

“Yes, Robert, thank you for stating the obvious.” She pinched his wrist and used some strength to move his hand aside. “However, you’ve misunderstood. We are not fighting. We are having a discussion.”

He looked at her doubtfully. “Really?”

“Yes. It is a poor discussion if one cannot share their opinions freely. Lady James is free to insult me to her heart’s content if that is what she believes. Just as I believe she is an ignorant, spineless, weak fool who disgraces the affinity she was blessed with and all who came before her.”

Alana stiffened. Robert opened his mouth in another attempt to diffuse the escalating tension in the room but was cut off by Alana.

“Ignorant? Spineless? Weak?”

“But not hard of hearing. Good for you.”

There was a short bout of laughter that ended when Alana turned her gaze to Arthur. When she turned back to Orphelia, her glare could have burned a hole through a steel ingot. “I admit, I am ignorant of what could make someone so callous in regard to life and the reaping of it. As for spineless and weak—”

She slid her sword from her sheathe, just enough to flash the metal of the blade. “We can test that.”

Orphelia scoffed. “Please, Lady James. A lady of your delicate sensibilities shouldn’t play with sharp objects, you’re liable to hurt yourself.” Her smile faded. “I could kill you before your weapon is fully drawn, you know.”

“You are not the only one with the light affinity.”

“Yes, but I am far more practiced than you.” She walked forward, dodging Robert’s outstretched hand, and stopped an arm’s length from the blonde. They glared at each other as she spread her arms demonstratively. “Here. I am in striking distance but I am entirely confident I will still win. It is a little disappointing really. Someone with the light affinity is treasured. I imagine you had the best tutors the duke’s gold could buy and countless resources yet you are still only above average. If that is not disgraceful, I don’t know what is.”

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

There was no way Orphelia could miss the change in her expression, the slightest grimace. Her mind whirred and her lips turned up in a mocking smile. “Or maybe you didn’t? I assumed from you being at the Hall and having the coveted light affinity that you were a spoiled daughter, but that isn’t right, is it? I should have seen it before. Your subpar equipment. Your disdain of your title. I don’t think I recall you ever being in Gold Dorm. Not even the famous hard-ass duke would treat his princess that way, especially not a weapon he was cultivating to cleave through the Bleak Peaks. You…you’re a bastard, aren’t you?”

She chuckled at the way Alana flinched and raised her voice. “An unloved bastard from what, a mistress? An affair? Did your father mount a maid while she was cleaning his floor? What does that make you? A daughter of convenience?”

“Shut up,” the blonde growled.

“No wonder you don’t use your title. Do you even know if it’s yours to claim? I’ve heard Fort Victory has a tradition of checking every child’s affinity in hopes of finding promising soldiers. You could have simply been granted the light affinity by fate and your mother claimed to have a dalliance with the duke himself. He certainly wouldn’t deny you. And really, I doubt he’s kept track of how many whores he’s had. Ah, well. You may not have noble blood but at least no one can say your mother is a fool.”

“Orphie!” Robert shouted. His eyes moved to the seething Alana before darting away, face flushed from secondhand embarrassment. “You’ve said too much.”

“Relax. Did I make any false claims? No. I simply made suggestions, ones she’s free to deny. So? Are you a bastard?”

“That means nothing,” she said through grit teeth.

“No? I don’t see you proclaiming it with pride. Not that I blame you. Bloodline is rather important to Harvest nobles. I mean, I doubt Lou would be as interested in you if she knew you were the daughter of a maid and a stable boy.”

Again, the change in her expression was impossible to miss. Alana’s lip trembled as she struggled to contain her reaction to the words, her hands gripping her weapon in a white-knuckled grip. And like a predator smelling blood, Orphelia pounced on weakened prey.

Leaning forward, she lowered her voice. “Do you think you are fooling anyone? Or perhaps your reticence is an immature attempt at seduction? I see the way you look at her. Everyone can. Though now I understand why you haven’t acted on your feelings. I can’t imagine how she would feel believing she has a relationship with Victory’s little princess, only to find out that you had tricked her.”

“I’ve never tricked her!” Alana hissed. “She knows who I am. She…wants me because of me.”

Orphelia twisted her features into a mask of sympathy. “Yes, she is so enamored with a stout, prudish, plain-looking woman who constantly rejects her advances. Be honest with yourself, Alana. If not for your lineage, why else would she be interested? Perhaps your shiny light affinity. If so, I am far more attractive. I even have two affinities.”

She let out a theatrical gasp, covering her mouth with a hand. “Is that what this is all about? Haha, I can’t believe I thought you cared about some pointless laws. You feel threatened by me! That I’m going to steal your woman!”

“No! This is about what’s right and what’s wrong! You should not walk away without punishment.”

“You mean you want me arrested so that you can continue being the only light in Lou’s life.” Orphelia smiled. “I was going to leave early but perhaps I should stick around. Lou seems quite considerate of the women she favors and I wouldn’t mind a repeat of—”

Most of the kingdom’s fighters focused on either magical or martial prowess. Those with strong affinities like fire and earth gravitated toward magic while those with water and wind, the affinities that required far more finesse to be useful on a battlefield in most scenarios, trained their bodies, using magic as a tool in their arsenal as opposed to dedicating their life to it. It was a rare thing to see a caster who fully utilized both. Even at the Hall that churned out the best of the best, the acolytes tended to specialize.

Orphelia was no exception. She had been trained in both from a young age but specialized in magic. Her light affinity was her greatest asset. Without access to a melder, something she could only dream of, her body could hardly compare with spells strong enough to burn through dragonscale, despite it being weakened without a dragon’s magic enhancing it.

Compared to Alana, who had mainly focused on training her body, and who had been trained by Kierra, who “encouraged” her muscles to reach their optimum state, the best she could do without outright changing her, she was slow. She saw the moment Alana decided to attack and started building her spell but was far too slow to do anything about the hilt that slammed into her stomach or the kick that knocked her to the ground.

However, pain wasn’t enough to stop her. She released her spell and bright light strobed throughout the room in quick flashes, drawing panicked yelps and muffled curses. Orphelia heard furniture topple over and bodies slamming into other things with loud thuds, but she ignored it, casting another spell to shield her eyes.

Alana could do no such thing. Her eyes were shut tightly and her head bowed as she held her sword at the ready. Orphelia strongly suspected that if she got to her feet or made a sound, the knight-to-be would zero in on her and use her sword to deadly effect.

It was a good thing then that casting could be done silently.

She needed much less time with her spell this time having only a single target. A thin beam of light burned through the shoulder of Alana’s sword arm. The blonde grit her teeth as she dropped her blade. Orphelia jumped to her feet and rushed her.

As expected, Alana knew the moment she moved, head snapping towards her. A kick lashed out at her, but Orphelia dodged, throwing a heavy cross. Alana dodging the blow she couldn’t see was surprising, but it was clumsy, made more so as she stumbled. Lack of vision was incredibly disorientating, especially when it was brought on suddenly and the person afflicted had to contend with pain and an immediate threat. It was why she favored the tactic so much.

The blonde was stronger, faster, and more experienced in a brawl but Orphelia still knocked her to the ground. She dropped, putting extra weight behind the knee she drove into Alana’s gut. Payback for her own ribs that would no doubt be bruised. Pulling a knife from under her robe, she canceled her spell.

As the light stopped flashing, Alana opened her eyes, blinking rapidly. She quickly focused on the knife held over her.

“I could kill you right now,” Orphelia said softly. “All I have to do is drop my hand.” She called on her mana and her eyes glowed. “Or one little spell.”

“If you’re going to do it, do it,” Alana growled, despite shaking.

“Now, now. That’s only impressive if you mean it, Lady James. I have found that no one is truly unafraid of death. Oh, plenty will risk their lives or even sacrifice themselves for a cause. But no one wants to die on a living room floor because they couldn’t keep their mouth shut.”

“You kill me, it’ll be the last thing you do.”

“I don’t think so. I might be punished but you attacked me first. How was I to know you weren’t another assassin? This is simply another case of self-defense. You—”

Her next words were cut off as a tight pressure closed around her throat and she found her feet dangling in the air. She met a violet gaze filled with anger, but not the usual burning, face-flushing, loss of temper that accompanied a disagreement.

It was cold, unflinching rage.

Dread knotted Orphelia’s stomach as she thought how the scene must have looked from another perspective. She knew she wasn’t going to harm Alana but anyone else would simply see her pinning the other girl down and holding a knife as if to strike.

She tried to explain that it wasn’t what it looked like but the only sound her abused throat could produce was a thin wheeze.

[Goodbye, Orphie.]

Orphelia’s eyes widened in realization. Then she both heard and felt the bones of her neck snap a moment before the world went dark.