She glances up at my entrance. Her hazel eyes, flecked with green, reflect a guarded curiosity. “Another letter from your beloved Senate?”
“An order, more like.” I lean against the doorframe, arms loosely folded. “They want me to display you in a public ceremony. I refused.”
She arches an eyebrow. “They won’t like that.”
“Too bad,” I reply, voice harsh with the residue of anger. “I’m not forcing you to stand on a platform to satisfy their spectacle.”
Her posture softens marginally. “That… helps, I guess. I was expecting you to drag me out there anyway.”
I exhale, stepping deeper into the room. “Mira, I’m not your enemy.”
She pauses, the ledger resting under her hand. Her hair, pinned loosely at the nape of her neck, shifts as she tilts her head. “Sometimes it’s hard to remember that, champion.”
There’s no venom in her words—just a resigned acceptance of a complicated truth. I close the distance, resting my injured side against the desk’s edge. “Did you find anything in those shipping logs?”
She rubs her temple in thought. “Yes and no. Some ledgers mention the same ‘unknown sponsor’ funneling coin to reroute shipments. Then other entries reference supplies simply vanishing between loading docks and final destinations.”
My tail flicks. “I wonder if it’s orcs buying off traders to sabotage our resources. But there’s no guarantee that’s the whole story.”
She flips a page, scanning rows of figures. “Could be a group of minotaurs working with orcs for a profit. Or an outside faction. Hard to say. I saw a note that certain shipments have been ‘redirected’ near harbor warehouses. Your own managers flagged it, but no investigation was noted.”
I grind my teeth. “The Senate keeps dismissing these anomalies as clerical errors. But if you suspect orc allies, that means infiltration in the city. It could be a Trojan horse for a future assault.”
She nods thoughtfully. “It’s possible. Though we might need more than suspicious ledgers to confront the Senate.” Her gaze flits across my face, lingering on the scar near my brow. “You’re not looking so good. Did your wound bother you?”
“I’ve had worse. The venom from that orc blade was mild enough that the medic neutralized most of it. Hurts, but I can manage.” The admission tastes bitter. I’ve never been fond of letting someone see weakness, but with her, I sense more judgment in pretense than honesty.
She sets the ledger aside, crossing her arms. “If you’re refusing the Senate’s demand to parade me around, they might push back. Don’t they hold your champion status in their hands?”
I shrug, ignoring the slight twinge in my ribs. “Possibly. But I’ve built enough goodwill that they won’t dethrone me overnight. The city admires me for fending off the orcs. The Senate uses that admiration whenever it suits them. If they try to undermine me, the commoners might revolt.”
“So they’re bound by your popularity?” She releases a short laugh that lacks humor. “Good for you.”
I catch an undercurrent of bitterness there, and a pang of guilt stirs. “I know you have no stake in champion politics. But I’d like to see you treated with dignity, not paraded around as a ‘triumph.’”
Her eyes flicker, an unspoken emotion crossing her face. “You mean that?”
“Yes.” The word leaves my mouth more forcefully than intended. “I hate this arrangement. I’m playing along only asmuch as necessary to protect you from orc retribution—and to keep the Senate from labeling you a threat.”
She studies me for a moment, then glances down at the ledger. “Fine. I won’t fight you on this one, as long as you don’t try to display me like some prized horse.”
A faint relief seeps into my chest. “Agreed.”
She steps back from the table, and for a heartbeat, our gazes lock. The tension is palpable, charged with remnants of our earlier hostility and something more potent. I swallow, suddenly aware of how close we stand in this dusty room, how her presence feels bigger than the space should allow.
She breaks eye contact first, clearing her throat. “You said we need more evidence to confront the Senate. Any idea how to gather it?”
I angle my head, thinking. “We could look in the harbor district. If shipments are disappearing, that’s probably where we’ll find leads. But it’s risky. The Senate might see it as meddling in official trade business.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m not afraid of risk.”
A hint of a smile tugs at my mouth. “I gathered that.”
The distant clip of hooves on polished stone draws our attention. A guard’s voice echoes in the corridor, announcing visitors. I sigh, stepping away from the desk. “Stay here, if you like. I’ll see who it is.”
She nods, exhaling a breath that lifts some of the tension. “I’ll keep reading. Maybe there’s a shipping manifest we missed.”
I leave the record room, striding into the corridor where two Senate aides wait. Their ornate cloaks and haughty expressions telegraph their importance. One bows slightly. “Champion, Senator Vaelen requests an audience. He says it’s urgent.”
