As Lucavion sped away, Valeria found herself standing in the quiet street, the early morning air cool against her flushed skin. She watched his retreating figure for a moment longer, her fists still clenched at her sides. His presence had been infuriating, and yet… the words he had left behind lingered in her mind, gnawing at her.
‘What’s your plan now?’
She huffed, starting her run again, though the steady rhythm of her footsteps felt less purposeful than before. The question—though framed in his usual irritating, playful tone—had struck something deeper. What was her plan now?
She had come here to prove herself, to challenge a dangerous bandit leader, and to make a name for herself before her upcoming entrance to the academy. But with Lucavion having already defeated Korvan, that chance had been taken from her.
‘What am I supposed to do now?’ she thought, her pace slowing as the question weighed heavier on her mind.
After all, both her team and her family were expecting quite a lot from her.
Coming to this place had already cost her a significant amount of time. The journey from her family’s mansion had taken nearly a week, and that was with minimal stops. Her squad and their horses had been pushed to the limit, and now the animals were exhausted, needing at least three full days of rest before they could make the return journey.
Even then, the trip back would take just as long, meaning that by the time she returned home, nearly three weeks would have been wasted. And what did she have to show for it?
Nothing.
No victory, no recognition, no bandit leader’s head to present as proof of her skill. Lucavion had robbed her of that chance, taking down Korvan before she even had the opportunity to face him. Now, all she had was the sting of defeat and the gnawing uncertainty of what came next.
The frustration built inside her, making each step feel heavier, her breath coming in short, irritated bursts. ‘Three weeks,’ she thought bitterly. ‘Three weeks, and I’ve achieved nothing.’
It wasn’t just about the lost time, though that was part of it. Her family had expectations—high expectations. She had been raised with the weight of her family’s honor on her shoulders, drilled into her since childhood, and every action she took reflected on the Olarion name. And now, here she was, having spent weeks on a fruitless mission.
She had nothing to show for it, and worse, she had allowed her pride to get the better of her.
Valeria clenched her fists as she remembered the moment at the inn when she had revealed her identity. It had been a stupid move, one that she regretted almost immediately. She had planned to keep her name hidden, to operate quietly so that any success she achieved would speak for itself.
The rumors about her would be much more genuine if people didn’t know she was a noble until after she had proven her worth.
But no. That bastard had gotten under her skin. His taunting, his smug smile, the way he spoke as if he had already figured her out—it had been too much. She’d let herself get agitated, and before she knew it, she had revealed her name in front of everyone at the inn.
“Valeria Olarion, daughter of House Olarion,” she had said, as if throwing her title around would somehow restore the dignity she felt slipping away in that moment. It was impulsive, born out of frustration. And now, because of that slip-up, she would have to go and pay respects to the noble overseeing this town. It was expected, of course.
She couldn’t just waltz into someone else’s territory, cause a scene, and leave without acknowledging the local authority. That was how politics worked. But the thought of it only added to her annoyance.
‘I was supposed to keep my head low, not draw attention to myself like some fool.’ But thanks to Lucavion and her own pride, she had done exactly the opposite.
Valeria’s steps slowed to a near halt as she let out a long, frustrated breath. This entire trip felt like a failure. Three weeks of time wasted.
Yet, she hadn’t thought she would get the opportunity this soon.
*********
Later that day, Valeria stood beside the mirror.
She was dressed in formal attire, the crisp lines of her outfit perfectly tailored to reflect her station as a noble of the Olarion family. The Olarion crest, embroidered in gold on her chest, was a clear reminder of her rank—far above that of a mere baron.
Her squad of knights accompanied her, though they maintained a respectful distance as she walked through the halls of the baron’s modest estate. It was a far cry from the grandeur of her own family’s mansion, but it was well-kept, with an air of quiet dignity.
The doors to the receiving room opened, and Valeria stepped inside, her head held high as she prepared to meet the baron. She had expected a typical display of arrogance, the kind that lesser nobles often put on when meeting someone of her rank. But when she saw Baron Edris Wyndhall, her expectations were immediately dashed.
Baron Wyndhall rose to greet her, his manner calm and unpretentious. He was a man of middle age, his face marked by lines that spoke of experience rather than vanity. His hair, streaked with silver, was neatly combed, but his attire, while formal, lacked the extravagant flair so often seen among the nobility. There was no gaudy jewelry, no excessive displays of wealth.
Just a simple man of his station, doing his duty.
“Lady Valeria Olarion,” he said, his voice steady and respectful as he bowed deeply. “It is an honor to welcome you to Wyndhall. I trust your journey has been well?”
Valeria inclined her head, returning his bow with a measured one of her own. “Baron Wyndhall, thank you for receiving me,” she replied, her voice polite but formal. “The journey has been as expected. I appreciate your hospitality.”
Baron Wyndhall straightened, offering her a small smile before gesturing toward the table where tea had already been prepared. “Please, join me. I thought we could enjoy a local delicacy—puff pastries made with honey from our nearby apiary. I hope it will suit your taste.”
Valeria’s gaze flicked to the simple tea set and the delicate pastries arranged on the table. It was a far cry from the opulent feasts served at her own home, but she found herself oddly relieved by the lack of pretension. It made the visit feel less like a chore.
“Of course,” she said, moving to take her seat opposite the baron. Her posture was immaculate, and every movement was precise and measured to befit her station. Her knights stood by the door, maintaining a respectful distance as they awaited further instructions.
Baron Wyndhall poured the tea himself, a simple gesture that spoke volumes about his character. Most nobles would have servants handle such tasks, but here he was, personally attending to her. Valeria accepted the cup with a nod of thanks, taking a small sip before turning her attention back to the baron.
“I must say,” Baron Wyndhall began, his tone courteous, “it is quite rare for someone of your esteemed family to visit this region.”
Valeria nodded in acknowledgment of Baron Wyndhall’s words, her expression carefully composed. “Indeed. I came here after being informed by the capital of the bandit threat in your territory. It was my intention to deal with the problem, as appointed by the crown.”
At her words, the baron stiffened, his face betraying a brief flicker of concern. It was a subtle shift, but Valeria caught it. He lowered his teacup gently onto the table, the porcelain clinking softly as he composed himself.
“Ah… I see,” Baron Wyndhall said slowly, his voice carefully measured. “I must apologize for the miscommunication, Lady Olarion. The matter with the bandits was resolved more swiftly than expected. After our garrison and Sir Lucavion dealt with Korvan and his men, I immediately sent word to the capital to withdraw the decree.
I had hoped to avoid any further inconvenience, but it seems the message may not have reached you in time.”
Valeria kept her expression neutral, though the memory of Lucavion’s smug grin flashed in her mind, irritating her once again. Still, she maintained her polite facade, offering the baron a small, courteous smile.
“It is not your fault, Baron Wyndhall,” she said calmly. “These things happen. It was simply unfortunate timing on my part.”
The baron visibly relaxed at her response, the tension that had briefly clouded his features easing. He had clearly been on edge, worried that she might hold him personally accountable for the wasted time and effort. Valeria could sense his relief, though he remained careful in his demeanor.
“Thank you for your understanding, Lady Olarion,” Baron Wyndhall said, inclining his head respectfully. “I truly regret that your efforts have been in vain. Had I known someone of your standing would be involved, I would have ensured the situation was communicated more clearly.”
Valeria waved a hand gracefully, dismissing the need for further apologies. “Think nothing of it. The important thing is that the threat has been dealt with, and your people are safe.”
Baron Wyndhall nodded gratefully, his shoulders loosening as the weight of the situation seemed to lift. “Thank you for your understanding, Lady Olarion.”
Baron Wyndhall, now noticeably more at ease, offered Valeria a gracious smile. The tension that had initially hung in the air dissipated, and their conversation turned to lighter matters. They exchanged a few pleasantries, discussing the state of the region, the quality of the local harvest, and the baron’s ongoing efforts to ensure the prosperity of his lands.
“You have managed this barony well,” Valeria remarked, her voice polite yet formal. “It is no small task to keep order in such times.”
The baron bowed his head humbly. “Thank you, Lady Olarion. It is my duty, and I take great pride in the welfare of my people. However, I must say, your presence here has been a rare honor. If you would allow it, I would be more than happy to offer you and your retinue accommodations for the duration of your stay. It is the least I can do.”
Valeria shook her head slightly, her expression remaining cordial. “I appreciate the offer, Baron Wyndhall, but my men and I have already made arrangements at the inn. We will not impose upon your household.”
The baron nodded, understanding her decision but still eager to show hospitality. “As you wish, Lady Olarion. Should you need anything during your stay, do not hesitate to call upon me.”
Valeria inclined her head in acknowledgment, appreciating his deference but eager to conclude the formalities. The conversation, while necessary, had run its course. She had more pressing matters on her mind, and lingering in pleasantries would not change that.
“What are your plans now, if I may ask?” the baron inquired, his tone respectful yet curious.
Valeria paused for a moment, considering her response. “I will remain here for a short while to allow my knights and horses to rest. After that, we will most likely return to the capital.”
Baron Wyndhall’s eyes lit up with an idea, and he leaned forward slightly. “In that case, may I offer a suggestion, Lady Olarion? I was recently informed that a martial tournament is being organized in the city of Andelheim, hosted by Marquis Aldrich Ventor. It is said to attract skilled warriors from all across the kingdom and beyond.”
Hearing that, her interest was piqued.