Chapter 32: Of All the Words He Could Have Said

Rel took another bite of cake.

Casually.

Calmly.

Like she had not just dropped Agrus the Red’s name into the room and then sat back to see whose heartbeat betrayed them first.

I kept mine steady.

Or at least I hoped I did.

The Supreme General licked a small trace of cream from the corner of her fork before speaking again.

“We eventually found his trail.”

Nemris leaned forward.

“You did?”

There was immediate interest in her voice.

That made sense.

Agrus had terrorized both kingdoms. Slavers tended to have the charming habit of making enemies in every direction.

Nemris’s brows drew together.

“That would explain why all reports concerning him suddenly stopped.”

Rel tilted her head.

“Not exactly.”

Nemris waited.

Rel placed the fork down.

“We found what remained of his group.”

That changed the room.

Not visibly much.

Just enough.

Nemris straightened slightly.

I kept breathing.

Rel’s golden eyes moved lazily between us.

“What do you mean by ‘remained’?”

Rel folded one leg beneath herself on the sofa.

“One member.”

Nemris frowned.

“Only one?”

“One man.”

Rel’s voice lost some of its playfulness.

“We discovered him near the border.”

She paused.

“Or what the monsters had left of him.”

Nemris’s expression hardened.

I said nothing.

Rel continued.

“He was barely alive when our patrol found him. Half his body had already been torn apart.”

Well.

There went the cake atmosphere.

She glanced at her plate.

Then pushed it away.

Probably wise.

“He was the only known member of Agrus’s group who made it out.”

Nemris’s eyes narrowed.

“So Agrus and his people were attacked by monsters.”

Reasonable conclusion.

Especially in this world, where walking too confidently into the wrong forest could apparently result in something the size of a carriage deciding you looked nutritious.

Rel leaned back.

“That was our first conclusion.”

First.

Important word.

Nemris noticed too.

“But?”

Rel’s tail moved once beside the sofa.

“But the dying man spoke before he passed.”

I almost sighed.

Of course he did.

Why couldn’t dying villains ever say something harmless?

Water.

Mother.

I regret my crimes.

Anything.

No.

They always had to become plot devices with severe blood loss.

Nemris asked, “What did he say?”

Rel did not answer immediately.

There it was again.

That pause.

Not uncertainty.

Observation.

She looked toward Nemris.

Then me.

Mostly me.

Her golden eyes stayed soft enough that another person might have missed what she was doing.

I did not.

She was waiting to see whether the question frightened me.

Fine.

Diplomat face.

Polite expression.

Relaxed shoulders.

Inside, every memory connected to Silverclaw had started standing up.

Agrus.

His surprise when my torn shirt revealed no Spriggan markings.

His realization.

Human.

His fear.

His explanation about ancient records.

My Berserker Aura becoming stronger than his.

His head leaving his body shortly afterward.

And apparently someone from his group had survived.

Fantastic.

Rel finally spoke.

“The last word he gave us was…”

Another pause.

Lady, if you stretch this any longer, the word is going to qualify for rent.

“Human.”

Silence.

Complete.

Even the small sounds from outside the room suddenly seemed farther away.

Nemris froze.

I did not.

That took effort.

A lot of effort.

My face stayed neutral.

My breathing stayed even.

No sudden shift.

No widening eyes.

Nothing.

Internally?

A tiny version of me had grabbed a chair and was smashing an emergency alarm with it.

Nemris slowly leaned forward.

“What?”

Rel watched her.

“Human.”

Nemris’s entire body language changed.

The careful Lord Commander disappeared just enough for something much more personal to surface.

Her eyes widened.

Not fear.

Excitement.

Pure intellectual excitement.

Oh no.

Zeria had not exaggerated.

Nemris really did love human history.

The woman who faced assassins without blinking was now struggling to keep her composure because someone had said the name of an extinct race.

“But humans are gone.”

Her voice came faster than usual.

“Thousands of years ago.”

Rel nodded.

“That is what every accepted historical record says.”

Nemris’s tail shifted behind her chair.

Tiny movement.

But for Nemris, that was practically jumping onto the table.

Rel continued.

“You can imagine our reaction when a dying outlaw used that word.”

Nemris looked toward the table without really seeing it.

“A human…”

She whispered it.

Then looked back toward Rel.

“You believe there might actually be one alive?”

Rel’s attention sharpened.

Nemris continued before she could answer.

“A living human?”

There was no hiding the fascination now.

Her normally controlled voice had picked up an energy I had rarely heard.

“After all this time?”

I stared at her.

This was adorable.

Also terrifying.

Because the living historical obsession she was excited about was currently sitting less than two meters away trying to look like an innocent Spriggan.

Nemris continued.

“That would be…”

She stopped herself.

Barely.

Then cleared her throat.

“A discovery beyond anything in modern history.”

Rel looked at her.

Then slowly looked at me.

And something changed in her eyes.

Not surprise that humans interested Nemris.

Something much more specific.

Realization.

Oh.

She understood.

Nemris did not know.

Whatever Rel suspected about me, whatever theory she was testing, she had just learned that the Lord Commander of Inizio was not part of it.

Nemris genuinely believed I was a Spriggan.

Rel’s gaze lingered on me for perhaps half a second too long.

I gave her nothing.

Not a smirk.

Not an acknowledgment.

Nothing.

The Supreme General slowly nodded.

“Possibly.”

Nemris immediately looked back.

“Possibly?”

Rel lifted one hand and waved it lightly.

“Only a possibility.”

Her casual tone returned as easily as slipping on a glove.

“We are still talking about the final word of a slaver who was half dead, terrified, and losing blood.”

Nemris’s excitement dimmed.

Just slightly.

Rel shrugged.

“He could have been hallucinating.”

I almost applauded.

Smooth.

Very smooth.

“He might have been referring to an old story. Perhaps he confused what attacked his group with something from legend.”

Nemris’s ears lowered by the smallest amount.

Disappointment.

Actual disappointment.

I wanted to laugh.

Not because her reaction was funny.

Okay, partly because it was.

But mostly because the woman had spent days treating me like a suspicious, troublesome Spriggan while secretly loving stories about humans.

Life had comedic timing bordering on cruelty.

Nemris nodded reluctantly.

“You’re right.”

Her voice became controlled again.

“We cannot treat the final statement of an outlaw as reliable evidence.”

Rel smiled.

“Exactly.”

Nemris looked down for a moment.

Then added, “Still…”

Rel’s eyes brightened.

“Yes?”

Nemris hesitated.

“If it were true…”

There it was.

She could not resist.

“If a human really had survived…”

Her gaze went distant.

I knew that look.

She was probably mentally opening every history book she had ever read at once.

Rel picked up her tea.

“Imagine the consequences.”

Nemris’s attention snapped back.

Rel took a small sip.

“If the kingdoms learned there was a living human somewhere on the continent…”

She let the sentence hang.

Nemris’s expression became serious instantly.

Not book-lover serious.

Commander serious.

“Chaos.”

Rel nodded.

“More specifically?”

Nemris folded her hands.

“Competition.”

“Go on.”

“Every major kingdom would want contact.”

I stayed very still.

Nemris continued.

“Some would offer alliances.”

“Some?”

Nemris’s jaw tightened.

“Others would offer wealth. Territory. Protection. Political status.”

Rel watched her carefully.

“And the less patient kingdoms?”

Nemris’s voice cooled.

“They might attempt coercion.”

Correct.

Zeria had warned me about exactly that.

Capture.

Control.

Study.

Recruitment.

Worship.

Assassination.

Humans had somehow gone extinct and still managed to remain politically inconvenient.

Impressive legacy.

Nemris continued.

“Depending on what ancient accounts they believed, some kingdoms might treat possessing a human ally as enough to alter the balance of power.”

Rel nodded.

“Which means?”

“War.”

There it was.

Nemris looked toward her.

“Not necessarily against the human.”

“No?”

“Over them.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Kingdoms would do almost anything to keep that person from joining a rival.”

Rel smiled faintly.

“Alliance would be the best outcome.”

The way she said it caught me.

Not because of the words.

Because of the emphasis.

Alliance.

Meaningful.

Intentional.

Her golden eyes moved to me again.

There was something underneath that smile.

A message?

A warning?

An offer?

No idea.

That woman was harder to read than a book written entirely in smoke.

I kept my expression politely blank.

Rel cleared her throat.

And just like that, the subject vanished.

“Anyway.”

Of course.

Anyway.

Nothing says normal conversation like casually discussing the geopolitical consequences of discovering an extinct legendary race and then returning to cake negotiations.

Rel picked her fork back up.

“You have our soldiers.”

Another bite.

“And three of our generals.”

Nemris nodded.

Rel pointed the fork toward us.

“I agreed to this parley because I wanted to hear your conditions for releasing them.”

There.

Business.

“I am representing Queen Firsa for this discussion.”

Her casual posture remained, but the room changed again.

Authority.

Easy to forget because she was petite, wearing a cute dress, and had frosting near her plate.

But this woman was second in command of Agran.

“If your terms are reasonable, I can accept them.”

Nemris glanced at me.

Small movement.

My turn.

I straightened slightly.

Diplomat Caled returned to duty.

Tragic.

He had been enjoying watching Nemris nearly combust over human history.

I folded my hands comfortably.

“Inizio’s conditions are simple, Supreme General.”

Rel made a small face at the title.

I ignored it professionally.

“We are not asking for territory.”

Her eyes sharpened.

“No financial compensation.”

Interesting flicker.

“No military concessions.”

Rel lowered her fork.

“Then what do you want?”

“Conversation.”

She studied me.

I continued.

“We want formal negotiations between Inizio and Agran reopened.”

No flourish.

No threat.

Just the point.

“Specifically, I would like an audience with Queen Firsa.”

Rel leaned back.

I kept going.

“I want the opportunity to discuss the dispute directly and see whether there is still a peaceful solution available before either kingdom commits to a war neither can easily undo.”

Quiet.

Rel watched me.

I watched her.

She rolled the fork slowly between two fingers.

“That’s all?”

“For the release of the prisoners?”

“Yes.”

“That’s all.”

Her brow rose.

“No reparations?”

“No.”

“No acknowledgment of Agranian aggression?”

I smiled faintly.

“If we begin by arguing over which kingdom has behaved worse, your cake will fossilize before we finish.”

Rel looked at the plate.

Then laughed.

Good.

Nemris remained composed beside me, though I caught the faintest approval in her eyes.

Rel tapped one finger against her knee.

“I can arrange the possibility of an audience.”

Possibility.

Not guarantee.

“Meaning?”

“I will speak to Queen Firsa.”

She tilted her head.

“But you will only get one chance.”

I nodded.

“I expected as much.”

Rel seemed mildly surprised.

“Our queen dislikes repeating conversations.”

“I’ve been warned.”

“It is not because of the current conflict.”

She waved her fork.

“That is simply her personality.”

“Efficient.”

“Impatient.”

“Those can be cousins.”

Rel smiled.

“She hears an argument once. If she rejects it, bringing her the same argument with prettier words usually makes her angrier.”

Useful.

Very useful.

“So if I get the meeting…”

“Do not waste it.”

I inclined my head.

“Understood.”

Nemris spoke.

“You have my gratitude, Supreme General.”

Rel immediately pointed her fork at her.

“Too early.”

Nemris paused.

Rel sighed.

“And you’re still calling me that.”

“You are still the Supreme General.”

“Terrible habit.”

Nemris ignored that.

Rel’s smile faded slightly.

“I have not secured anything yet.”

She set the plate down.

“The timing matters.”

I listened closely.

“If I approach Queen Firsa at the wrong moment, she may reject the meeting before I finish explaining why it is useful.”

Rel leaned back.

“And I need to persuade her in one conversation.”

She made a face.

“That is difficult even for me.”

Interesting.

Queen Firsa must be fun at birthday parties.

Nemris asked, “How long will you need?”

“I don’t know.”

Honest answer.

Rel looked toward me.

“But considering what is currently at stake…”

There was that look again.

That tiny extra weight.

Did she mean the war?

The prisoners?

Balder?

Me?

Possibly all of them.

“I will do everything I can.”

Her golden eyes remained on mine.

“I have no desire to see Agran enter a full war against Inizio under the current circumstances.”

Current circumstances.

Another phrase with hidden luggage.

I smiled formally.

“Then I’ll wait for your answer.”

Rel nodded.

“I’ll send it as soon as I have one.”

“Thank you, Supreme General.”

She sighed dramatically.

“You two are exhausting.”

Nemris looked genuinely confused.

I almost laughed.

Rel stood.

Then stretched.

Both arms lifted over her head.

Her back arched slightly.

The red dress shifted around her petite frame, emphasizing just how small she was compared to nearly every high-ranking warrior I had met in this world.

Cute.

Tiny.

Supreme military authority.

A deeply deceptive combination.

I looked away before observation became staring.

Then noticed Nemris.

She was looking at me.

Brows furrowed.

Ah.

Caught.

Not the best timing.

I smiled innocently.

Nemris said nothing.

Which somehow felt more dangerous.

Rel lowered her arms.

“Well.”

She smiled brightly again.

“I suppose that’s everything.”

I stood.

Nemris followed.

“We should leave.”

Nemris gave Rel a respectful nod.

“We await your response.”

Rel waved.

“Yes, yes. I know.”

We turned toward the door.

Rel called after us.

“Caled.”

I glanced back.

Huge smile.

Golden eyes.

Unreadable.

“Try not to get captured before I send the invitation.”

I smiled.

“No promises.”

Nemris immediately said, “There will be promises.”

Rel laughed.

We left.

The door closed behind us.

I walked three steps down the corridor.

Then exhaled.

“That woman scares me.”

Nemris glanced sideways.

“You?”

“Yes.”

“I’m surprised.”

“Why?”

“You fought Remgar willingly.”

“Remgar uses swords.”

“And?”

“You can see swords.”

Nemris considered that.

“Rel uses conversation.”

I pointed back toward the room.

“That woman hides knives inside sentences.”

Nemris’s expression softened faintly.

“You handled yourself well.”

I looked at her.

“Was that praise?”

“The discussion went better than I expected.”

“I’ll frame that.”

“I did not say you were perfect.”

“Too late. My confidence has already grown.”

Nemris shook her head.

I glanced back once.

“Still.”

“What?”

“It went smoothly because Rel allowed it to.”

Nemris looked ahead.

“Yes.”

There was no argument.

“She was unusually easy on you.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Easy?”

“She tested you.”

“I noticed.”

“Rel can be far worse.”

That was comforting in the same way being told the shark had only tasted your leg was comforting.

Nemris continued.

“She rarely takes an immediate liking to strangers.”

I put a hand over my chest.

“My charm.”

Nemris shook her head.

“Of course.”

“It’s powerful.”

“I’m sure.”

“Potentially strategic.”

“Caled.”

“What?”

She sighed.

“I hope that is the only reason.”

I looked toward her.

“You don’t think it is.”

Nemris remained quiet for several steps.

“No.”

Interesting.

“You know her that well?”

“Well enough.”

We descended the stairs.

Nemris added, “Rel does very little without purpose, even when she behaves as if she is doing nothing.”

Yeah.

That matched my assessment.

“She noticed something.”

Nemris’s brows pulled together.

“I simply don’t know what.”

I did.

Or at least I knew one thing she had noticed.

Nemris had no idea I was human.

Rel now knew that.

I kept that thought safely inside my skull where it belonged.

Nemris exhaled.

“Regardless, I am grateful.”

I looked at her.

“For?”

“The parley succeeded.”

She glanced toward me.

“Whatever Rel’s reasons, we now have a genuine opportunity to reopen negotiations.”

Fair.

I smiled.

“One step closer.”

“Yes.”

We left the government building.

Our escort was waiting.

The Agranian knights looked slightly less tense now.

Not relaxed.

Nobody had started distributing friendship bracelets.

But fewer hands hovered near sword hilts.

Progress.

Soon we were back in the air.

Yuneska shrank beneath us.

Mountains rolled past.

The border returned.

Then Dahera Plane.

Our camp.

When we landed, the waiting knights immediately crowded around.

Nemris gave the official report first.

The parley had succeeded.

Supreme General Rel had agreed to approach Queen Firsa.

No royal audience yet.

But the door was open.

That was enough.

The mood changed instantly.

Relief spread through the camp like someone had opened a bottle and poured it into everyone’s bloodstream.

That evening, restraint died.

Food appeared.

Real food.

Extra food.

Someone produced instruments.

I did not ask where they had been hiding them during the battle.

Military priorities were mysterious.

Music started near the fires.

Knights laughed.

Armor came off.

Somebody found alcohol.

Several somebodies, apparently.

Cups filled.

Then refilled.

I accepted one.

Drank.

Nothing.

Still nothing.

My inability to get drunk remained one of the great injustices of Aphrodasia.

I stared into my cup.

“You disappoint me.”

The knight beside me raised his own drink.

“Talking to the wine?”

“Yes.”

“Does it answer?”

“Not anymore.”

He laughed.

Good enough.

Soon someone dragged me into the dancing.

Not formal dancing.

No Leyra.

No careful posture.

No elegant steps.

This was soldier dancing.

Which meant enthusiasm had murdered choreography and hidden the body.

I threw one arm over a knight’s shoulder.

Another knight hooked his arm around mine.

We stumbled in a circle to the music while somebody shouted a drinking song I barely knew but somehow understood enough to ruin loudly.

“LOUDER!”

“I AM LOUD!”

“LOUDER!”

“MY ANCESTORS CAN HEAR ME!”

They cheered.

I had no idea whether that line belonged in the song.

It did now.

Across the fire, I caught Nemris watching me.

She stood with a cup in one hand.

No armor except the lighter pieces she apparently considered comfortable.

Her expression was different.

Soft.

Amused.

She smiled.

Not the tiny almost-smile she usually rationed like wartime supplies.

A real one.

I looked directly at her.

She immediately looked away.

Oh.

Interesting.

I grinned.

She noticed from the corner of her eye.

Turned farther away.

Even more interesting.

I returned to dancing.

The night stayed peaceful.

No invisible armies.

No traitors.

No generals.

Just firelight.

Music.

Food.

Soldiers celebrating being alive.

It was nice.

Rarely complicated things like peace looked this simple from inside a camp.

Laughing people.

Full stomachs.

No weapons being used.

Maybe that was all peace really was.

Ordinary moments nobody had to fight to keep.

Just a little more.

One successful meeting.

One conversation with Queen Firsa.

Maybe after that, this fragile little possibility could become something lasting.

Morning came.

Too quickly.

Again.

Nemris gathered everyone near the center of camp.

Then reached into Dimensional Storage.

She pulled out another town portal scroll.

I looked at it.

“You people carry those around like travel coupons.”

“They are limited.”

“And expensive.”

“Yes.”

“Everything useful is expensive.”

Nemris ignored me.

The surviving knights gathered.

Supplies were secured.

The wounded stood ready with assistance.

Nemris unrolled the scroll.

“This one is linked to the entrance of the royal castle.”

Magic ignited across the parchment.

Symbols glowed.

White light spilled outward.

The air split open.

A massive oval portal unfolded in front of us.

Beyond it, I could see familiar white stone.

Golden lion banners.

Royal guards.

The castle.

Home.

Huh.

That word came surprisingly easily.

Nemris looked toward everyone.

“Let’s go home.”

The knights began moving through.

One after another.

I followed.

White light surrounded me as I stepped toward the capital.

I smiled.

“Welcome home.”