Tears burn my eyes again. “I tried to leave. I saw orcs meeting Vaelen’s circle. It doesn’t matter if I vanish—they’re still pushing infiltration.” My voice cracks. “I couldn’t walk away and let you face them alone.”
His mouth sets in a trembling line. “You realize the Senate still demands you by nightfall.”
My heart pangs. “Yes. But if I run, Vaelen enslaves the city anyway. That orc meeting proves it. If you give me to them, the city might remain docile for a moment, but the infiltration seeds are planted. Milthar is doomed if we yield or if I flee. So what’s the point of sacrificing ourselves separately?”
He exhales shakily. “So we stand together, even if it leads to ruin?”
I meet his gaze, tears slipping free. “Yes. Because I’d rather face ruin with you than cower alone. I love you, you bullheaded champion.”
He releases a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh, pulling me into a fierce hug. My arms twine around his neck. I cling to him, trembling. The fountain’s soft murmur underscores our ragged breathing. Freedmen discreetly avert their eyes, granting privacy as we share this fragile reunion.
He draws back enough to cup my cheeks, tears glistening in his own eyes. “I love you. I tried to accept your plan to keep me safe, but I—I was lost. I couldn’t bear it.”
My chest twists with raw emotion. “I’m sorry I ran. I only wanted to shield you from the Senate’s ultimatum.”
He shakes his head. “We don’t shield each other by vanishing. We do it by fighting side by side.” The ring of conviction in his voice steadies me. “If the Senate casts me out, so be it. If Vaelen unleashes orcs, we’ll gather Freedmen, merchants—any who see the truth. We’ll protect Milthar on our own terms.”
A rush of hope flares, precarious but real. “Then we do it. We gather our allies, reveal the infiltration plan, and refuse to hand me to orcs.”
He nods, pressing his brow to mine. “We stand firm. Enough of Milthar’s commoners trust me. If they see orcs inside ourwalls at Vaelen’s behest, they might revolt. We can’t let fear dictate the city’s future.”
In the courtyard’s hush, Freedmen glance our way, some offering supportive nods. A wave of quiet determination spreads. My chest feels lighter, though the stakes remain dire. At least we’re united again.
Murmuring softly, I relay every detail of the orc meeting I witnessed. His eyes widen, fury stoked anew. “They’re finalizing infiltration as we speak. Then handing you over is meaningless. Vaelen’s using you as a scapegoat to accelerate his takeover.”
I swallow. “Yes. If we surrender to their demand, we lose everything anyway.”
He wraps me in close with a firm grip, guiding me indoors. “Let’s gather Freedmen’s best fighters, quietly warn merchant allies. If the Senate tries forcibly removing me tonight or delivering you to orcs, we’ll be ready.”
The relief that we have a plan buoys me, but a current of dread remains. We’re outnumbered by the Senate and orc colluders. Will Freedmen unify against official decrees? Possibly. My hand clutches Remanos’s tunic, seeking his warmth. No matter how bleak, I can face it if he’s near.
Back inside, Freedmen scurry to pass messages, while Remanos and I convene a hushed council in his study with a handful of trusted Freedmen leaders. They vow to stand guard at the estate, muster other Freedmen who revere Remanos. We prepare to prove Vaelen’s treachery—detailed notes, shipping records, mention of orc sightings. The Freedmen vow to call a public assembly if the Senate attempts a stealthy move. It’s a small, fragile bulwark, but it’s ours.
Night falls too soon, blanketing the city in a tension-laden hush. The estate bustles with Freedmen quietly arming themselves, determined to shield me from Senate or orc clutches. Remanos stands at the center, issuing calm directives.Despite the weight on his shoulders, he radiates fierce resolve. I hover at his side, bracing for the final confrontation. My heart aches that he might lose champion status, but I won’t let him face Vaelen’s blow alone.
Just before midnight, scouts return, reporting orc emissaries massing near the southwestern quarter. The Senate is rumored to meet them by dawn. Remanos’s Freedmen exchange fearful looks. Everyone knows what that means: an official handover, me as the trophy to keep orcs docile. Or at least the Senate’s pretense. I bite my lip, refusing to quake. If they come, we stand ready. My chest pounds with adrenaline.
Amid the hush, Remanos pulls me aside into a small corridor lit by a single lantern. He rests a hand against my cheek, searching my face. “Are you sure you won’t try to run again?”
Tears burn my eyes. “Never. I realized you’re right. We must stand or fall together. Even if it’s the end, I won’t face it alone.”
Emotion flickers across his features—love, sorrow, fierce pride. He inclines his head, pressing his brow to mine. “I vow no orc will take you. Not while I breathe.”
I nod, voice shaky. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to protect Milthar by your side.”
Our fingers entwine, hearts in sync. This final vigil of the night feels like the prelude to a storm. Freedmen patrol the estate perimeter. The city rests in ignorant slumber, unaware that by dawn, all might shatter. Remanos and I stand close in the corridor, that slender link anchoring us.
He leans in, voice hushed. “If tomorrow ends badly—if the orcs breach the city—I want you to know… no regret stands in my heart. Only love for you.”
My tears slide free. “Same. I wish we had more time to build a real life together.”
A gentle hush envelops us. He draws me into a tender embrace, and for a moment, the courtyard’s tension drifts away.We share a silent promise to find that future beyond the Senate’s tyranny, beyond orc threats.
Exhaustion claims me eventually. At Remanos’s urging, I slip into a small room to catch a brief rest. Sleep, however, remains elusive. I doze fitfully, dreaming of orc raids and Senate tribunals. The night crawls by, too still, as if the city holds its breath.
Before dawn, Freedmen rouse me quietly. Remanos stands in the hallway, expression grim. A scout reported movement near the southwestern quarter—Vaelen’s circle gathering, orcs in tow. The Senate likely finalizes their plan. My pulse thrums. We must act, or the Senate might forcibly remove me in the coming hours.
With Freedmen guards, we slip out of the estate, determined to intercept or observe the orc-Senate meeting. Our group skirts the main roads, hugging dim alleys. The city feels eerily silent, the horizon tinged with the faintest glow of impending sunrise. If we can catch Vaelen’s conspiracy in action, maybe we can rally enough witness. The Freedmen’s footsteps echo softly on the stones, hearts pounding as one.
