A soft melody drifted through the floors of patrons and courtesans. Conversations paused and noises lulled as they paused to listen.

Delicate fingers plucked at the stringed instrument. The music was soft but each note struck the air with a gentle strength.

Those walking by stared wistfully at the Lucky Charm, envious of the nobles and merchants who could afford such luxury and beauty. The music crescendoed, trembling, before slowly echoing into silence. The final note was accompanied by the musician’s soft smile.

Bowing low, they picked up their instrument and backed out of the spacious chambers. The wooden doors slid close, leaving the two people in the room to themselves.

Rufus Langard lounged in one of the chairs. He stared wistfully into the distance. There was still working light outside, but that never stopped the lord from taking a well-deserved break.

Cherry lips quirked. A wooden brush poked at the young lord. “You seem distracted.” The courtesan pouted. “Is my beauty not enticing enough for you?”

The young lord flushed. He glared indignantly at the smirking woman. “Like you would let me anywhere near you!” Last he had tried, the renowned artist had nearly impaled him with her paint brushes. He shivered at the memory, patting himself to make sure everything was still intact.

The beautiful woman smirked. Dabbing at the paint, she resumed in her work. Elody was no regular courtesan. Her patrons paid to watch her paint and bid over the chance to commission her pieces.

Rufus paid to hear the gossip and trade stories. It had always been a fun past time. Now, he genuinely needed information. The young man let his head drop into his hands. Even his break was no longer a true break! This was work!

Elody studied him with a critical eye.

Rufus bemoaned his luck. Still, if anyone could help him, it would be Elody.

It just so happened that good wine and an hour of slightly drunk painting watching was the key to wagging tongues. Or so Elody claimed. Between the woman and her musician sister, Harmon, it was said few courtesans came across as much gossip, and information, as they did. Funnily enough, the reputation only gained them more customers, each more eager to learn other’s secrets than weary of divulging their own. Almost always, it served in the sisters’ favor.

Elody set down her brush. “You have sighed all evening, boy.” She shook her head. “And it’s not your usual lovesick pining either.” The woman crossed her arms. Despite the annoyed glare, the image was beautiful. Like a vivid painting, fresh and full of vigor.

Rufus let his head fall back against the satin pillows. He sighed. If it wasn’t for a certain general, this would have been a nice afternoon.

“Have you heard anything about someone impersonating me?” He glanced at the artist hopefully. “Have you?”

Elody quirked a delicate eyebrow. Thankfully, she had enough class to hold back a laugh. Why would anyone want to impersonate Rufus Langard? Elody swallowed a giggle. His reputation was possibly more widespread than hers.

In contrast, the boy continued his ramblings, waving his hands this way and that. “To be honest, I could use any information. Anything mysterious about the end of the Grassland wars, really. Truly, I’m at the end of my wits.” Rufus pulled at his hair, practically wailing. “This stress might just kill me before my mother does!”

Tilting her head, Elody glanced down.

Blood red nails drew shapes in the painted mats. “I only know the same as everyone else. Your father aided Wenge and they regained their reign over the other clans.”

Rufus turned on his front and buried his face into the pillow. “I already knew that.” He huffed, “Everyone knows that!”

The painter courtesan snorted, “Well, I can tell you something most don’t know.”

Rufus’ head snapped up. “What?”

Elody crossed her arms, she looked off elegantly into the distance.

Scrambling to his knees, Rufus begged, “Lady El, please! Tell me!” He clasped his hands together. “I’ll get you ten new brushes! No! Twelve! I beg you!”

There was a desperate whine in his voice, different from his usual cries. Perhaps the young lord really was in trouble. Compared to usual, Elody relented easily. “Horse hair, and we have a deal.”

For all his flaws, Rufus was not someone that went back on his word. Seeing the boy nod, the artist was quick to get to the point. “It’s said that your father has been frequenting the Street of Joy. Our very own Lucky Charm in particular.” She raised a delicate finger in the air. “In fact, just a few nights ago, he was only a few floors above where we are sitting.”

Rufus’ jaws dropped! His father? The boy’s face paled at the thought of his mother finding out.

“But that’s not all,” added the courtesan. She leaned close, excitement tinging her voice. “Few know it, but he was visiting the private room with,” Elody glanced around and lowered her voice dramatically. “The Lord of Feldgrau!”

Her crescent eyes gleamed. “My cousin was guarding their chambers. I took a peek while dropping off their wine.”

Rufus sat back in disbelief.

“We all thought it was some lord he was entertaining" she twirled her paintbrush in between her fingers. "But, I’m sure you could guess my surprise when I saw the ice prince without his mask. He is quite handsome, the rumors did not exaggerate.” She gave a proud huff. “Lord Langard, this is information no one else knows. You should really be bowing at my feet for this priceless knowledge.”

Although not bowing, Rufus’ jaw was hanging wide open in shock. The young lord’s dread took great pause. Suspicion colored his features. A private room with the Lord of Feldgrau? And so highly secretive? Since when was his father on such good terms with the ice prince? They hadn’t even met in years! In fact…the boy ran a hand through his impeccable hair, now stressed to the point of frizziness.

The last his father would have seen the other would be… Rufus balked at the mental calculations. Perhaps he was getting ahead of himself but… that would be around the time of the Grassland Wars!

“It can’t be,” murmured the boy. But the more he thought of it, the more it made sense.

Why would his father suddenly visit a prince he had no affiliation to? Unless… there was more connection than most people knew. And to imitate the general’s residence script, the person had to be extremely familiar with the great houses and the writing styles of nobilities. It wasn’t something a snooping maid or even highly trained merchant would be able to copy easily.

“Rufus?” Elody tried not to let the worry show in her voice, but her favorite customer was acting extremely out of character. “Rufus!” she snapped.

The young lord turned to stare at her, finally giving the artist an acknowledging hum. Elody frowned but let out a soft breath. Seeing the familiar wide-eyed stare, she resumed her work. When Rufus began to murmur about his recent love escapades, it seemed the conversation had been put behind them. But behind Rufus’ relaxed expression, his mind was unable to let go of his previous train of thought. Could it be…

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

No, decided the boy, it was too early to come to such a drastic conclusion.

At the time, with so many issues within the royal family, how could the ice prince have possibly cared? Catching sight of the tightened grip on the brush, Rufus turned to placate the irritated artist.

Still, the young lord couldn’t shake the hunch that there was more to the story.

What was his father hiding?

---

Do not fall.

The Raven General’s stern gaze was fixed on the marble floors.

Those passing by would have thought the floor committed a grave slight against her. To her credit, Faye was a fast learner. Stumbling slightly, she strode out of the Queen’s chambers with her head held high and balance, mostly intact. Abby would be proud of her, Faye decided.

Chattering lightly, the other ladies made their way out as well. Some lingered for a private word with the Queen while the social ones invited one another to their residences. More than a few gave Lady Feldgrau’s dress a second glance, before smirking at one another and looking away.

Most of them had daydreamed of marrying the ice prince. The hope had been dashed with rumors of his infatuation with Lady Ashara. But with the recent marriage, they found it hard to squash the triumphant feeling blooming in their chests.

No one could compare to the Rose of Eburean… but the general who was zigzagging and almost fell into a passing servant? Their chests puffed with pride. It was pleasing to see how far the barbarian paled compared to their elegance and grace.

Unknowing of their thoughts, Faye rolled her shoulders. She had slept on rocks and spent days in a saddle, but meeting with the Queen was exhausting in ways she was not used to.

For what felt like hours on end, the ladies gossiped about their houses and husbands. Each seemed to play an invisible game that Faye found hard to grasp. Words were measured and smiles dripped with false sweetness.

Most of the topics flew over the general’s head despite her desire to partake in the conversations. Although her seat by the queen’s side kept her safe from most ridicule, even she could feel the tense atmosphere. The other ladies appeared at a loss for how to treat her.

Throughout the morning, the Raven General often nodded or laughed along despite the constant clueless look on her face. However, when it came to the subject of jewelry, it turned out that the general was more than knowledgeable. When Faye revealed that it was due to years of counting tributes from conquered tribes, she puffed up at the awed (and horrified) looks from the rest of the room.

A form brushed past Faye. The general narrowed her eyes at Lady Asinara who glared right back.

The Raven General straightened and crossed her arms. “Are you clumsy or blind?”

“A good day to you,” snapped Asinara before daintily strutting away with her ladies-in-waiting. She was gripping her left hand to her chest, cradling it like one would an injury. Despite the haughty look on the lady’s face, there was a defeated quality about her slumped shoulders and the dark bags under her eyes.

Faye tilted her head, watching the other go. She got the feeling the lady didn’t like her all that much. But they had not even met before...Suddenly, an image snapped into Faye's mind. That was the woman with Nikolai in the market! The general scowled. So, that’s how it was.

Huffing, Faye turned and headed in the other direction. She had no idea where she was going, but she was the Raven General, she would figure it out.

The young woman pulled herself into a dark corner.

Leaning against the wall, Faye let out a sigh of relief and kicked off her shoes. They landed a good distance away. Her aching toes thanked her. She missed the feel of dirt against her toes, and grass tickling her ankles.

The young woman basked in the silence. Usually, the lack of noise and people made her skin itch. Post-battles she couldn’t stand the silence. Although her pride refused to admit it, the quiet made her question if she had unknowingly joined the dead.

Her hand fell to the sword on her hip. The blade rattled at the movement. The familiar weight always grounded her. Faye’s breath evened out. The silence was filled with the unknown. Sometimes it terrified her.

But for now, it was also a nice reprieve.

“By the heavens, did you see her dress?”

Faye pushed herself tighter against the corner as the voices approached.

“And that strut!” The voice sneered, “She walks like a bear!”

“Have you seen a bear?”

“Well, no,” the voice admitted. “But I’m sure if I did, that’s what it would look like!”

There was a sniff as the group paused, “And who carries a sword into the queen’s chamber? If I were her Majesty, I would have had the barbarian punished for such an insult!”

The group burst into agreement.

One voice laughed, “What do you expect from a barbarian? Even Wenge didn’t want her and sent her to us! And to think we were all so afraid of the Raven General!”

The jeering tone reached Faye’s ears loud and clear. “She’s nothing more than an idiot who can’t walk straight!”

A figure approached from behind the Raven General.

They paused, staring at the proud woman pressed against the wall, hunched in on herself. The other was so engrossed in listening that they did not notice the figure’s approach.

Blue eyes squinted at the unusual stillness in the general’s form. What could make the raucous woman so silent?

Faye was curious. She too had never seen a bear. Did she really walk like one? Still, she deflated slightly. Faye had tried so hard to impress them. It stung her pride to see her efforts be in vain.

The group of ladies pointed silently at the bare feet sticking out. They stood out against the pristine marble walls. The women eyed each other warily. There was only one person the bare feet could belong to.

One the younger ladies, feeling bold, exclaimed loudly. “Lady Asinara even said the clumsy idiot was parading around in the commoner’s market! Performing like a fair monkey!”

Emboldened by the first, the others also wanted in. “I heard she shot and killed a man blindfolded!” They smirked viciously. “Maybe the lord makes her perform for him as well!”

“As if!” protested another. “They hate one another! The lord does not permit her into his chambers, lest she slit his throat!”

“I heard the she-demon was so jealous she chased out all of the pretty maids the queen sent!”

“Poor lady Asinara,” murmured the first. “It’s hard enough to see your love stolen by another woman! Imagine having a cheating fool for your replacement!”

There were loud exclamations of shock and excitement.

The first lady shrugged, “I heard she’s carrying Rufus Langard’s bastard to try and pass off as the Lord of Feldgrau’s! But everyone knows the lord’s not stepped into his wife’s chambers even once!”

There was a chorus of agreement. Everyone knew of the general’s indiscreet visits to the Langard Residence! Unsupervised on top of that!

“And did you see her hands?” The ladies grimaced. Ever since their birth, they were instructed to fear callouses and scars. It was considered unseemly to ruin elegant fingers which needed to paint, sew, and perform music to perfection. In contrast, the crisscrossing patterns of scars across the Raven General’s calloused hands were jarring. They looked painful and reminded them who exactly they were dealing with.

Faye glanced down at said hands. The scars felt more vivid and detailed against the color of her dress. An uneasy feeling grew within her. These fists were stained with much more than scars, but it was the first time that their unseemliness occurred to her.

“Like a beast,” whispered one of the younger ladies. Her small voice trembled.

Faye shoved her hands behind her back. To her shock, someone snatched them right back in front of her. The Raven General turned, ready for a fight. Only to falter at the sight of blazing blue eyes.

“Niko-“ started Faye, but was cut off.

Nikolai’s grip was gentle but he dragged her forward. Faye gaped at her husband’s uncharacteristic behavior. She was surprised he had not joined the group in mocking her.

“She is terrifying,” added one of the younger girls.

“Obviously,” muttered the others.

“So you all still have some common sense,” drawled a low voice.

The women gaped at the Lord of Feldgrau who emerged from behind a corner. They glanced at one another fearfully. How much had he heard?

“My, my lord,” stammered the eldest. “We did not know you were here!” She tried for a laugh. “Or else the ladies and I would have included you in our little discussion.”

Shadowed, blue eyes glanced over the crowd. “Interesting,” he said, clearly not interested. “Tell me, do you have room for one more?”

It was then that the Raven General was pulled out of the darkness.

Faye stumbled into the spotlight. The woman looked irritatedly at the Lord of Feldgrau. The general’s exposed toes flexed and she clenched a sword in her free arm.

When she turned to face the group of women, there was a terrifying scowl on her face.