“Psst,” Alynna winked at us from the side of the room. Her luscious black hair was loose today, reaching down to her seat, and thoroughly combed, with a red patterned bandana around her head. “Enjoyed the night, didn’t you?”

Lariel immediately stiffened, her cheeks flaming red.

“Alynna!” Lariel protested, her tone sharp but not unkind. “Do you have to say that now?”

Alynna chuckled, unabashed. “What? Just making an observation. You two are glowing like embers.” Her emerald eyes flicked between us, lingering on me with an impish glint. “Besides, I wanted to make sure my dear Connor hasn’t forgotten about me.”

I gritted my teeth in between a smile.

Now I was in a tough spot. Wasn’t I?

“Of course not, Alynna. You two are equal to me.”

Alynna stared at me with narrowed eyes. “Then, why am I not sleeping with you?”

Lariel shrugged. “You said there are some things that are important to you, like virginity.”

“Yeah,” Alynna shrugged. “But I can still sleep next to him, can’t I?”

I gritted my teeth. I could see the uncomfortable blushes on the guards and attendants.

“If it’s such a problem, I have a solution,” Alynna exclaimed, hands posed around her wide hips.

“What is it?”Lariel asked.I cocked my head in wonder.

Alynna cleared her throat and placed both arms behind her hips. She closed her eyes and smiled, as if what she was about to say would change her life and our own. "Why don't we just get married here? There's a church down there and priests of the Church of Aria. They could just, you know, say the words and I’ll be his."

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out.

"Marry him?" Lariel asked. "It's not fair! We're gonna wait until we return to the forest, and Father can marry us there, just as it's proper in the Rites of Aria. I do not recognize these customs."

Alynna crossed her arms. "You just want to marry him before me."

"Well," Lariel shrugged, "he's mine. We were together in our past lives; it’s the least I could ask for.”

I looked around, feeling like something was wrong. Every single eye in the room was fixed on me, except for the elves trying to be aloof about it. Alynna? Why do you say all these things out loud?

Kent was sitting at the table ahead of us, coughing loudly while the knight at his left and the priest at his right mumbled to each other. I placed a hand on Alynna's knuckles. She closed her mouth, hiding her lips and lowering her face.

Then, we heard hushes in the hall. I turned to look at Zyra, dressed in clothes provided by Kent’s people. I’d never even imagined her wearing something like that. She still wore green, a long bulky skirt that reached down to her ankles.

And then, Kent finally spoke out loud. Every other voice in the chamber went silent.

"So," Kent said, his voice loud and elegant, "we've received word from the city."

He paused for an instant, sweat beading on his forehead as his eyes drifted toward Zyra. This concerned us all, but he seemed more anxious about Zyra's reaction.

"Virna has stepped forth and named himself king. They're not wasting time, it seems. There are two or three, not rebels, but people who aren't fully behind him in court. My good friend Waldemar, for instance, showed some doubt, as there were city burials of His Majesty and Her Highness, where no bodies were provided. His questions were dismissed, though. And concerning the elves... It seems they're throwing all the blame on the elven communities in the forest. They're calling it a great betrayal. The morning began with rallies in the street, stirred up by people close to Virna, to get the people on board with an attack on the elves."

Zyra's face had grown pale.

"That quickly? They’d just stand by when he calls for our people to be massacred?"

I took a deep breath, taking in the news. Every elven face around us was not only downcast but outright pale. This had been the fear of their species for thousands of years.

"What's their goal?" I asked sharply.

Kent took a deep breath. "Virna has called for the extermination of all the elves. He's said they should be made to leave the forest and sail to other lands or be killed."

"It's madness!" Zyra exclaimed. "We're surrounded by enemies. We'd be murdered or enslaved either way."

I clenched my fists. This was one of the times when leaders openly advocated for evil, and the people seemed to follow along. Couldn’t they see what they were about to do?

But the fact that this had apparently gone through in the council, mere days after the new king was sworn in, hit me hard.

Wasn't I supposed to be the champion who could lead them to victory? All of a sudden, I didn't feel like the miracles I'd experienced until now woulddo me justice.

Could I even fight against the stupidity of the people of this land?

But I knew full well that I couldn't give up. I had to do my best and fight to protect the elves, even if things seemed completely against us.

Then, a youthful voice rang out from the side of the table. It didn’t surprise me, but it also didn’t encourage me.

"Let me go," said King Malor. "Please. Let me show myself to my subjects. At the Cathedral, perhaps. I know they will accept me and forget this insanity. The people will make my uncle accountable."

Next to him, Camille shook her head in disappointment. "Stop it, brother. Stop at once!" she said sharply. "Are you planning to get killed? Is that what you want? To be martyred on a whim?"

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Malor stood up, hands pressed against the table. "I would, yes! If that could stop this madness. Believe me. I know my people are smart enough to see through the lies. They're loyal to our royal blood, descended from Kinor the Conqueror. We are the ones who've protected this realm for centuries. We're the ones who were bound to protect the elves. And as king, let me be a token to my people and the elves. To be a sacrifice, if I may!"

It sounded like the kid had practiced his speech overnight. I looked at him and examined his glance.

It was brave of him, to be honest. I thought the possibilities through, but my underlying cynicism and common sense reminded me that it was the dumbest idea ever.

Virna and Larendo were in control of the most important assets in the kingdom: the royal guard and the local army. They could come up with whatever bullshit they wanted. Plus, they had access to professional agitators. The stupidity of the masses couldn’t be underestimated.

The tension in the room was a palpable knot of fear and desperation. I could feel the weight of every eye on me, expectant and uncertain. The elves were looking for hope; Lariel and Alynna were watching for my reaction, and Lord Kent seemed to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Even young King Malor’s defiant resolve didn’t inspire the confidence he probably hoped it would.

I stood, forcing calm into my voice. “We need to think carefully here. Rushing into decisions will play right into Virna’s hands. He thrives on chaos, and that’s exactly what he’s stirring up with these rallies.”

Malor’s face flushed with frustration. “So you propose we do nothing? They’re calling for genocide! Against the people you represent! My people are being poisoned against the elves by lies. If I don’t act, what am I even a king for?”

I held his gaze. I took a deep breath not to lash out and kept my tone firm. “I’m not saying we do nothing, Your Majesty. I’m saying we need to act smarter. If you go out there now, you’ll give Virna exactly what he wants—a spectacle. From what we’ve just seen, the city guard has no respect for their own rightful king. He’s said you’re dead. He’d shoot you down as an elven illusion or order your arrest and keep your appearance quiet. A king in chains or, worse, a martyr’s death he can spin into propaganda. We can’t afford that. I have another idea.”

Camille, standing nearby with her arms crossed, nodded approvingly. “Finally, someone is thinking clearly.”

Malor slumped back into his chair, his fiery resolve dimmed but not extinguished. “Then what do you suggest?”

I took a moment, gathering my thoughts as I glanced around the room. Zyra’s pale face was etched with grief, and the other elves wore expressions of quiet dread. Alynna and Lariel were both watching me closely. Even Lord Kent seemed to lean forward slightly, his eyes eager for some glimmer of a plan.

“We need to stall them,” I said finally, the idea forming more clearly in my mind as I spoke. “Buy ourselves time to turn public opinion against Virna. If the people of the city are rallying behind his call for war, we need to give them a reason to doubt him. More than that, let’s give a counter-argument. Let’s bring a huge swath of the population against him.”

“And how do we do that?” Kent asked, his voice thick with skepticism. “He’s controlling the narrative right now. Every whisper, every proclamation—it’s all his. I could perhaps stir the flames. Waldemar seems promising, if he believes me. The Church of Aria, well, they teach that we’re tasked with protecting the elves, but it’s only a minority religion among the nobility; most people just pray to their ancestors.”

I pointed at him. “Exactly. He’s controlling the narrative because he has no opposition. But what if he did? What if we give the people a counter-narrative, something to make them hesitate before marching into the forests with torches and blades?”

Zyra tilted her head, a flicker of hope in her eyes. “Alright, what kind of counter-narrative? The truth might sound too outlandish to the people. I’m not sure they’d be ready to take it.”

“They would,” Malor added.

I began to tap my fingers on the table, my mind racing. “Virna’s claim rests on the idea that the elves are so bent on their own interests that they were willing to kill the king, right? That they’re rogues who can’t be trusted. And we show that Virna is the actual bad guy, coddling Hath Aman’s sorcerers and bowing to their demands. Maybe not a lot of people will believe it at first, but it’s a start. In fact, only people deemed crazy will believe it at first. But what if we make it grow? We discredit Virna.”

Lariel frowned, her brow furrowing. “How do we prove that to people who are already so easily swayed by the official narrative?”

“Optics. That’s where the stalling comes in,” I said. “Kent, I know you don’t want to oppose the council too much. And I agree that we must play our cards slowly. But you did have your building in the palace blown up, and not by us. Can you petition the council for a formal inquiry or trial? Something to slow Virna’s momentum and prompt Waldemar to ask questions, but don’t oppose him.”

Kent’s eyes narrowed in thought, his gaze drifting to some unseen horizon. “I wouldn’t just oppose him. I have a bit of land, but only about a hundred homes under my care. I wouldn't trust other noblemen with the families under me. Yes…yes, I could demand an investigation into the attack, at least. It would force them to halt their plans until the inquiry is resolved. Besides, the court moves at a glacial pace under normal circumstances—partly because Malor’s agreement is often required, and he had to be swayed. But now? Things might just be different.”

“And while they’re bogged down in bureaucracy,” I interjected, leaning forward, “we use that time to rally support. Spread the truth about the elves and expose Virna’s lies. From the bottom up.”

Zyra’s eyes narrowed, her sharp gaze fixed on me like a hawk. “Do you honestly think this could work? And how exactly do you propose we do all that?”

I tilted my head, letting a sly grin curl my lips as I turned to Kent. “Do you have access to a printing press?”

“A printing what?” Kent asked, raising an eyebrow.

Okay. That could be a problem.

“What percentage of the city can read?” I asked without missing a beat.

Kent shrugged. “I’d say about twenty percent, give or take. The merchant class, scholars, some of the wealthier artisans.”

“Perfect.” I leaned in closer. “And do people believe what they read?”

“What?” Kent barked a laugh. “Are you suggesting we write a book or something?”

“Better,” I said, my grin widening. “Pamphlets. Small, cheap notices packed with information. We can stir the pot, expose Virna’s treachery, and maybe even suggest that King Malor is alive and amassing an army in the west. If we had a printing press, we could churn out hundreds of these in no time. Making one from scratch, though… we could just write hundreds of them.”

“Hold on,” Kent said, waving a hand as if to stop my train of thought. “What’s a printing press? And why would it matter?”

“It’s a device for mass-producing text,” I explained. “Alright, I don’t want to get too technical… But, books, letters, pamphlets—anything you need to spread information quickly and efficiently. Right now, I guess, scribes spend hundreds of hours copying texts by hand. Imagine doing the work of dozens of scribes in the time it takes one to finish a single page.”

Kent stared at me like I’d just sprouted wings. “You’re saying this… press could do that? Make books faster?”

“Not just books,” I said, tapping the table with my fingertips. “It’ll revolutionize communication. Trust me. But that’s a plan for later.”

He let out a long breath, his hands pressing down on the table as he mulled over the idea. “Alright, fine. Let’s assume you’re right. Even if we had these… pamphlets, how would we distribute them? Virna’s watchmen won’t just stand by while we flood the streets with rebellious chatter.”

“We use unconventional means. Sky lanterns, for instance. Toss them over a cliff and let the wind carry them into the city.”

“Sky what?” Kent frowned, crossing his arms.

“Sky lanterns,” I said, gesturing as if shaping one with my hands. “Large fabric envelopes filled with hot air that make them float. Perfect for spreading messages far and wide.”

The attendants started chattering. The knight next to Kent shrugged, exchanging words with the priest. I read the priest’s lips, mumbling the word magic.

Zyra snorted, folding her arms. “And where exactly do you think we’ll find these sky lanterns?”

I smirked, undeterred. “They’re easy to make if we find the right material. You have paper, don’t you?”

I suddenly remembered that medieval people had more access to parchment than to paper. So far, I’d only seen parchment.

“Paper?” Zyra asked. “From trees?”

“Exactly.”

“Expensive,” Kent said with a nod.

“Well,” I said, “let’s try. We have hills nearby. We could launch from the high ground.”

Kent sighed, rubbing his temples as he muttered under his breath. “Well. Let me just take this all in. You’re either a genius or completely mad.”

“Neither. I just used to read the news back home.”