Remarkably, Rali and Mul’s increasingly nonsensical back-and-forth yelling match failed to get either ejected from the feast prematurely. The pair continued their passionate exchange well into the final dessert course. One slung heartfelt longings while the other settled for simply slinging whatever foodstuff could be used as projectiles, until the wine finally got the better of Mul. From there, the object of his declarations of adoration switched from Rali to the generous slice of almond cake piled on his plate. Oralia’s end of the table fell notably quiet after that.

It wasn’t until Adderwood’s new head of agriculture passed out face-first in his dessert plate that the dinner officially came to a close. A pair of attendees shuffled past, ushering their drunk companion towards the double doorway. The soused fellow still had bits of clotted cream clinging to his beard like fluffy snow. A ruddy-faced council member stood at the far end of the table and called for the attention of those gathered. After thanking all for their attendance, he wished a goodnight to anyone not asked to stay for the impromptu council meeting afterwards.

Dirty snakes, Oralia thought. The councilor’s closing statement confirmed what she had suspected from the start. The honorary dinner had been a ruse all along–an unclever way to strongarm Oralia into attending another one of their dull meetings without having to hunt her down first. Unfortunately for them, she had come prepared with a decision in hand. The only downside was that she had to be regretfully present in order to deliver it.

Rali nudged Oralia from beneath the table with her knee. “Are you sure you want to do this? We could just run and skip town. Say the word, and I’ll have the horses saddled and ready.”

“It is one council meeting,” Oralia replied. “I have survived many before it. Just as I will this one.”

“No offense, but it’s not the surviving part that’s got me worried, boss. It’s the part where they play on your delicate sensibilities and talk you into staying long term.”

“That has never happened before.”

“Yeah, ‘cause of me.” Rali’s cheeky grin widened at Oralia’s resulting glare. “We both know full well I’m the only reason we’ve ever walked away from the negotiation table unscathed.”

“Then you will be relieved to hear that this is not a negotiation. I have my answer and I will not be swayed from it.”

“Alright, alright, fine. At least take my negotiation knife in case you run into trouble.”

Oralia looked at the ceiling as she massaged the persistent ache from her temples. “The fact that you have a negotiation knife says everything I do not need to.”

“What it’s saying is ‘gee, thank gods my second in command is here to cover my ill prepared ass’.” The dwarf drew back her jacket, revealing an ornamental dagger strapped to her hip. “Come on now, admit it. You want my little lovely here. Better yet, you want me and the knife. A little added insurance that you don’t accidently sell our souls to another well-meaning empire can’t hurt, you know.”

The audacity of her former lieutenant. It was as if Rali held no confidence in Oralia’s ability to say ‘no’ whatsoever. There was an immediate way to prove the dwarf wrong on that account. “Thank you, but no,” Oralia said. “There is no need for you to die of boredom for my sake.”

“That’s what the knife was for, boss. Thought I’d make things interesting.”

Oralia’s gaze shifted from Rali to Sascha, who seemed to be having some difficulty keeping his balance. The fact that he had a Stoneclaw brother on either side of him pulling in opposite directions did not seem to be helping. “Walk Sascha home for me instead?” Oralia asked. “I think Mul and Lingon finally succeeded in drinking him under the table.”

“That’s ‘cause they’re dirty, rotten cheaters!” Sascha slurred, trying to shrug off the pair of giggling parasites currently latched to either arm.

“Don’t worry, boss, we got this! We’ll get him home and tuck him in bed nice n’ cozy for you,” Lingon called, trying to drag Sascha out the door with him. The slender man succeeded only in walking in place as the worn tread of his boots slipped uselessly against the polished wood for traction.

“See?” Rali shrugged. “The dingleberries have it handled.”

“The last time Sascha was left drunk in their care unsupervised, the brothers took turns playing horsy in the courtyard,” Oralia said. She still didn’t know how they’d gotten the saddle on Sascha without losing an arm in the process, but it was a sight that haunted her memory more often than she cared to admit. Sascha was so far gone he had no memory of the incident. She insisted on keeping it that way, threatening all manner of bodily harm any time either Mul or Lingon so much as whinnied in her presence.

“Lightweight,” Rali scoffed.

They traded equally severe looks until Oralia was forced to concede the effort was a losing battle. She dropped her scowl in favor of something more beseeching, possibly even pitiful. If Oralia’s vulnerability didn’t appeal to Rali’s soft side, it would at the very least make her want to crawl out of her skin. “For me? Please? As a friend?”

The noise Rali uttered from between her tightly clenched teeth bordered on feral.

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

“I will not be long,” Oralia said. “I promise.”

“Damn you and those puppy-dog eyes.” With a huff, Rali stood and whirled about, seizing charge of the deteriorating situation behind them with a deafening clap of her hands. “Alright buckos, we’re out of here. I want to see some gusto, hup-two-three-four, hup-two-three-four, on my mark, go!”

Oralia’s team stumbled out into the adjoining hallways after slurring their goodbyes. The last of the plates were whisked from the table, the double doors closed, and she found herself surrounded by a host of mildly drunk, exuberant faces. One of the older, stuffy looking dwarfs cleared his throat and looked expectantly in her direction. He steepled his hands onto the table and flashed what he mistook for an inviting smile. “Madam Protector–”

“Oralia,” she corrected. “And, if I may, counselor, I would like to precede your meeting with an announcement.”

They appeared genuinely surprised by this, but no one objected. Oralia’s gaze dropped to the table, realizing the reason for this may have been due to the ornamental dagger resting where her plate used to be.

It may not have been the best look, but it was far too late to backpedal now. Oralia placed her hand over the knife and casually swept it into her lap, grateful that Rali had at least left it in its gilded scabbard. “As you all are aware, my team and I have spent the last two months helping your forces uproot the previous realm stranglehold from your territory. It is my pleasure to announce that yesterday’s settlement was also the last. With the exception of a few remaining stragglers along the border, the realm no longer has an active presence in your territory.”

Had there been a chalice in front of her, this was the moment Oralia would have lifted it in celebration. Unfortunately the only immediate item at her disposal was the damn dagger and brandishing a blade above her head seemed like it would send the wrong message. Thus, she settled for a forced smile. “Let me be the first to congratulate New Adderwood on its independence.”

The dingy room burst to life with a round of cheers as the more unruly members of the council stomped the floor and pounded the wood table with their fists. Oralia allowed the excited murmurs to go on for no more than a minute before moving on to her actual announcement, swiftly so, in the event one of the others tried to wrangle the floor out from under her. “As you all know, my position here was strictly on a volunteer basis. You needed a familiar name to unite your cause and I lent you mine. Now that New Adderwood’s independence is secured, it is time for me to step down and move on.”

This did not land quite as well as her congratulatory line about independence. The cheering and hearty pats on the back faded as the gathering slowly came to grips with the fact that their senior military consultant had wasted absolutely no time issuing her official resignation. It was their own blasted fault, Oralia told herself. Had they not pushed so persistently for a council meeting immediately upon her arrival, she would have at least given them a few days to enjoy their independence before crushing their hopes of keeping her on permanently.

Several council members clustered together at one end of the table, whispering fervently amongst themselves. It was Captain Almas Bernstein who broke the stunned silence, appearing even more dejected than he had during dinner. “You’re leaving so soon?”

“I am.”

“And your team?”

“Free to do as they wish, as always,” Oralia replied. Unfortunately for him, there was a good chance the team member Captain Bernstein was particularly interested in had already climbed the city gate and was striking out on her own, swearing off friends and lovers alike for good. At least until Rali remembered traveling was much easier via pony and grudgingly returned to retrieve it.

The dwarf captain sat straighter in his chair. “Would it be out of line of me to offer a position to certain members of–”

“Enough, Almas,” a senior member of the council groaned. “Give someone else a turn.”

One of the others piped up with, “Have you given any thought to what you plan to do next, Madam, er, Oralia?”

Did planning to sneak away into the night the moment the meeting was over count? While Oralia was certain it did, it was also not the answer they wanted to hear. “Not as of yet, no.”

She regretted her poor choice of words immediately as the faces gathered around the table brightened at the prospect. The ruddy-cheeked dwarf at the far end of the table designated himself the unofficial spokesperson for the table once more. “The council understands your prior reasons for wanting to remain on a volunteer basis, but making a permanent alignment with the New Adderwood Republic known would provide you protection. We are more than ready to offer you a full time position.”

“As I stated before, my presence here is only to help straighten some of the upset caused by my untimely withdrawal from the United Territories.” Untimely withdrawal sounded so much better than treason. They were both technically correct, but Oralia preferred the former for obvious reasons.

It had taken only a matter of weeks after the battle on Mount Hook for the tales of her treachery to reach the capital. Geralt had done his best to paint her as the villain, but he’d underestimated the consequences it would have on the country. The outer territories had been in turmoil even before Oralia changed sides. For decades, the Division of Divination had been raiding their communities, tearing apart families, and stepping all over the local government’s toes.

Oralia’s desertion was all it took for the outer territories to follow her lead, declaring their independence from the current regime. Adderwood was the first to descend into open rebellion. Hallowbac soon followed and there were whispers that Mossborn was not far behind. Suddenly lacking an experienced military head, the realm was openly struggling to keep its remaining pieces intact.

Oralia had not intended to get caught up in another war, but she did feel partially responsible. And, anyway, it offered her the chance to forget about her own personal predicament. It really said something about her situation that she opted to throw herself into a rebellion as a means of distraction. Permanent employment by the newly formed independent territory, however, was a step too far even for her. With New Adderwood’s independence temporarily secured, it was time to move on.

Where exactly, she had no idea. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She at least knew where she didn’t want to be. “Council members,” Oralia said, interrupting what was probably meant to be an irresistible offer of which she conveniently heard not a single word, “thank you for the lovely evening, but it is well past time for me to retire. My decision on the matter is final. Goodnight.”

With that said, she stood and strode for the entrance, wondering if she’d meant retire for the night or from her current life path completely. It was a wondrous, terrifying thought. One that fortunately could wait until the morrow when she didn’t have a splitting headache.