Our small group entered the barracks where my company had taken refuge these past few days. The front part teemed with foot soldiers and archers, their chatter and laughter echoing off the wooden walls. The back, however, with its larger, more private rooms, was reserved for knights and us, the Taron.

"Sir Teutos, you surely know Sir Loriks, don't you?" I asked, my voice tense.

"Of course," he replied, his eyes narrowing. "A veteran of many campaigns and battles. He holds considerable sway among our ranks. Why do you ask?"

"He fell today on the battlefield. His last request was for me to take care of his pregnant wife. Do you know where she might be?" I inquired.

"She should be with the other women, but pregnant? Women in such a delicate condition are supposed to stay at Fort Iris," Sir Teutos pondered, his stern facade momentarily faltering with a fleeting frown in response to the loss of his comrade.

"Yes, that's true, but she probably hid it to stay close to her husband," I speculated.

"Very well then, Sir Teutos, lead us to the women's quarters."

He nodded solemnly. As we moved through the dimly lit corridors, the air was thick with an eerie silence. Most of the troops were either indulging in what pleasures they could find or tasked with guarding the slaves. Recollections of the orc chieftain surged through my mind. Had my ultimatum made an impact? I had no desire to torture needlessly, but the intelligence on the orcs’ unusual movements was vital. Only yesterday, distressing news arrived from Iris—a raven brought word that the Fortress of the Order of the Blossom had been overrun. This opened a direct path to Avernum for the orcs, with only a few small strongholds obstructing their advance. It was incomprehensible—after decades of repelling the orcs with relative ease, they now struck with unnerving precision. Something ominous loomed on the horizon.

Suddenly, Sir Teutos' voice roused me from my thoughts as he declared our arrival. Surveying the scene, I observed several women engaged in washing and mending clothes.

Much like the men, the women were also ranked. The mistress of a knight expected different accommodations than a simple whore. These were matters I usually left to Lea's brother, Lorus, or more often, the head nurse, an unexpectedly wiry older woman named Geysele, the unofficial leader of the women.

Only now did I notice that the women had stopped their activities, their eyes fixed on us. It was rare for Lea ás Ras and the Imperator of the company to visit the women's quarters unannounced.

I let my gaze sweep over them. Geysele was likely tending to the injured, so I needed someone else. My eyes landed on a young girl, her face painted with makeup typical of a whore. As she saw us approaching, she became visibly uncomfortable. Just before I could speak, a beautiful, curvaceous woman stepped in front of her and bowed.

"Forgive me, Imperator, but Mari here is not suited to your tastes; she is too young and inexperienced to satisfy you. Please, choose me or another of the flute girls," said the woman, her voice melodic, a forced smile on her lips.

"Exactly, Pal, leave the poor girl alone, you lecher," Lea interjected with a laugh before I could respond.

At Lea's laughter, the woman before me shuddered slightly and quickly composed herself, but not quickly enough for me to miss it.

Initially, I thought she wanted to ingratiate herself with me, but she genuinely feared for the girl's fate, believing we would rape her. Given her frail build, she wouldn't survive an encounter with a Taron like me.

I looked deeply into the woman's eyes and smirked, "What's your name?"

The woman stretched, showcasing her ample breasts, and ran a hand through her hair. "Demesy, Dominus."

"Don't worry, Demesy. We Tarons don't make a habit of consorting with flute girls. Instead, I'm here to find Sir Loriks' wife. Can you take us to her?" I asked.

Demesy resumed a normal posture, a relieved sigh escaping her lips. "Yes, Lady Opae is sleeping further back in a separate room. Shall I lead you to her?" she asked, biting her lip, still trying to entice me.

I examined her. She was tall for a human woman, with long legs that accentuated her curvaceous figure. A mane of blonde curls cascaded down her back. Long lashes made her green eyes appear larger than they actually were.

I would be lying if I said I didn't feel a twinge of desire at the sight.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

"For a whore, you have remarkable confidence, which my men apparently haven't broken yet. Lead the way. Tell me, were you aware of Lady Opae's... special condition?" I asked, my voice dripping with suspicion.

Demesy grew nervous but shrugged, "Apparently you already know. Her pregnancy only became apparent in the last few days. Is that why you're here?"

Unlike most, she showed little fear of me, a Taron. A useful trait for me.

"Curious too? No, I'm here to bring her the news of her husband's death," I said.

"Oh," Demesy exhaled, "Here we are." We stopped in front of a dark door.

"I'll take my leave then, Dominus," Demesy said, about to depart.

"Wait." Demesy turned back to me, surprised. "I think I could have a use for you. A messenger will come for you," I said.

Demesy grinned at me mischievously before turning and disappearing. Her articulation did not match that of a simple whore.

Lea raised an eyebrow, "Pal, I think I don't need to remind you of your position. A common human whore?"

I raised my hands in appeasement, "Don't worry, I have a different use for her than you think." I crossed my arms, "And even if I didn't, I can decide for myself who I let into my bed."

"Apparently not," Lea retorted unhappily.

I ended the conversation and opened the door. Inside, I found three better-dressed women engaged in conversation.

At the sound of the door opening, one of them turned and went pale at the sight of us. This prompted the other two to look at us as well.

"Imperator," they greeted me, curtseying. The etiquette lessons were finally bearing fruit with the women.

"I wish to speak with Lady Opae alone," I instructed. The two women immediately lifted their skirts and left the room, but not before casting sympathetic looks at their friend.

Once they were gone, I sat down opposite her on a chair that was a bit too small for me.

Opae was younger than I had expected, no older than twenty. Her pregnancy was still early, with only a small bulge indicating her condition.

She sighed as I sat down, "We both know why you're here. Did one of the women blab about my pregnancy? Probably one of the whores."

Sadly, I shook my head and took her delicate hand. She recoiled as if I had burned her.

"Our visit is of a different nature. Your husband fell heroically in battle."

I let my words sink in. Opae looked at me with wide, disbelieving eyes, tears beginning to shimmer in them. "No. No, you're lying. He promised me he'd come back. He promised me!"

Her voice broke, a sob escaping her lips. She shook her head as if trying to banish the reality.

"I'm afraid it's true. You can see his body before it is given to the flames," I replied softly, my voice barely a whisper as I stared into her large, despairing eyes.

Opae's face contorted in a mask of pain. "It... It can't be true. M... My blossom." Her body began to tremble, and she collapsed entirely, her shoulders shaking under the weight of her grief.

A heart-wrenching cry tore from her throat, and she clung to my hand as if it were the last bit of support in a world suddenly thrown into chaos. Tears streamed down her face, and she wept as if she had absorbed all the sorrow in the world.

"Opae," I began, my voice heavy, "Your husband fell bravely like a true chevalier. Before he died, he asked me to take care of you. That's why I'm here. You'll receive half his pay until you have enough children to take care of you. I swear this by Lux."

But my words seemed not to reach her. She was too deep in her pain to perceive anything else. Her cries and sobs filled the room, and I felt powerless in the face of her agony.

Behind me, I heard Lea's voice, gentle, "Ius perfecta."

But Opae did not respond. She was trapped in her own world of pain, her hands clenched, her eyes closed as if trying to block out reality. I finally stood up, my heart heavy with guilt.

I turned once more to see the mourning, now-widowed woman. Her sight was like a dagger to my heart. I felt a chill as I realized how many more widows my actions would create before I could sit on the Throne of Light again. As many as it would take. Then I closed my heart for further guilt or compassion and wore the face of Taron. Cold and determined.

"Sir Teutos," I said, "find the two women who were with Lady Opae earlier and inform them of their friend's fate. They can comfort her."

I left the room, the echo of Opae's cries haunting me like a shadow.