Ventren and Gwendolyn rode downhill as the road curved between low stone walls and sparse trees. Ahead of them, the County of Menzo came into view. The castle sat on a rise of dark earth, its walls thick and angular as it was built for defense rather than beauty. Surrounding the castle was the village in a sort of 'T' design.
There was movement but little life. As the two riders passed the outer farms, doors shut and shutters closed. Parents pulled children indoors without speaking. A few faces appeared briefly in windows before vanishing again. No one called out, nor waved, nor asked who they were or what business brought them there.
The streets were quiet by the time Ventren and Gwen reached the inner road. Too quiet.
Ventren slowed his horse slightly and scanned the surroundings. He saw no signs of recent battle, no fires, corpses or even patrols beyond the castle walls. The buildings were intact but poorly maintained. The silence felt deliberate.
He dismissed it after a moment as the sun had already dipped below the hills. Villages often shut themselves in early when night approached, especially in regions close to the borderlands. Menzo lay far enough from Ironhold that people here likely feared bandits and imperial adventurers more than royal authority. It was close to the Elven Theocracy to the west and also bordered the Kingdom of Riveria to the south, though the Riverians were close allies to the House of Menzo.
"Strange place," Gwen muttered, adjusting her grip on the reins.
"Late hour," Ventren replied. "That's all."
They continued toward the castle.
House Menzo's banners hung from the gate towers and along the walls. A red snake, coiled and biting its own tail, stood out against a field of black and yellow. The fabric was clean and well maintained, unlike much of the surrounding stonework.
At the gate, guards stepped forward. Their tabards were white, marked clearly with the blood-red serpent. Their armor was in better condition than the village buildings suggested. Polished mail, clean helms and a full set beneath the hauberk, a proper gambeson.
One guard raised a hand. "State your business."
Ventren dismounted. "Sir Ventren of the Royal Guard. This is Sir Gwendolyn, also of the Royal Guard. We are here on orders of the Prince Regent."
The guard looked him over, then Gwen, lingering briefly on Ventren's size before nodding.
The portcullis was raised without further question. The rusted gates opened wide enough for both horses. As they entered, the metal teeth scraped against stone with a dull sound that echoed longer than it should have.
Inside the walls, the castle courtyard was orderly and quiet. Torches burned along the walls, evenly spaced. More soldiers moved with purpose but kept their heads down. No one spoke unless spoken to.
Waiting at the center of the courtyard stood Lord Thadeus Menzo.
He was tall, broad-shouldered and clearly strong, though his movements were controlled rather than aggressive. His hair was blonde, braided neatly and tied behind his head. His face was smooth, feminine, almost delicate in structure with sharp eyes and a composed expression. He wore fine clothing, an expensive tunic and over it all hung a distinctive cape that draped over his left side, covering his arm and much of his torso while bearing the house colors and snake sigil.
Beside him stood Lady Azalae Menzo.
She was thinner, her posture careful, her hands folded lightly in front of her. Her hair was a muted ginger, worn loose down her back. Her eyes were clouded and unfocused. She leaned toward her husband, who stood close enough to guide her without appearing to restrain her.
Thadeus stepped forward and bowed. "Honored guests of the Crown," he said. "You bring great distinction to my humble hall. Pray, forgive the hour of your arrival. Night comes swiftly in these lands."
His voice was smooth and formal, the words carefully chosen and spoken with an old-fashioned cadence.
Ventren bowed in return. "Lord Menzo."
Gwen followed suit.
Thadeus smiled. "You must be weary from your travels, be my guests tonight. Please, dine with us and rest within our walls. All that House Menzo has shall be at your disposal."
He turned slightly and offered his arm to his wife. "My lady."
Azalae placed her hand on his arm, and he guided her with practiced ease. As they walked inside, Ventren followed, eyes alert.
The interior of the castle was colder than expected. The stone walls were thick, the corridors narrow. Torches provided enough light to see clearly, but shadows lingered in corners.
Along the first hall, Ventren noticed mounted displays.
Elven heads.
They were preserved and mounted on dark wooden plaques. Some were old, their features dried and rigid but the knife ears were unmistakable.
Ventren's jaw tightened.
Thadeus noticed his gaze. "Relics of war," he said calmly, without turning. "Menzo has long defended these lands against incursions from the Theocracy. We honor our fallen enemies by remembering them."
To kill your enemies is one thing... But to display their heads like this?
Ventren said nothing verbally. Gwen too but her expression visibly hardened but she held her tongue.
Thadeus continued guiding his wife through the halls, his hand steady, his pace slow enough for her to walk comfortably. He spoke to her quietly at times, informing her of steps, turns, changes in floor height. There was no impatience in his manner, he clearly loved his wife dearly.
They reached the dining hall, where a modest but well-prepared meal awaited them. Servants pulled out chairs, poured wine and served food without comment.
Conversation was polite. Thadeus asked about the capital, about the Prince Regent's health, about conditions along the roads. He spoke in careful, elaborate phrasing, never raising his voice
Ventren answered when required. Gwen followed his lead.
At one point, Ventren asked, "We were sent to ensure the safety of your household, my lord. How fares your daughter?"
Thadeus paused briefly before answering.
"She rests," he said. "The day has been unkind to her constitution. She is asleep now and I would not disturb her."
His tone remained pleasant, but Ventren noted the speed of the reply and the way Thadeus's hand tightened slightly on the edge of the table.
"I see," Ventren said. "We will check on her in the morning, then."
"Of course," Thadeus replied. "She shall be delighted to receive royal knights."
After the meal, servants led Ventren and Gwen to their quarters. It was a single room. There were two chairs, a small table and only one bed.
Gwen stared at it.
"You're joking."
"I fear not," said the servant. "The castle's space is… limited."
Ventren dismissed him and closed the door. Gwen removed her gauntlets and groaned. "Two days," she said. "Two whole days in all this armor."
Ventren removed and set his helmet aside and began unfastening his pauldrons. "Not that bad. I slept with armor on for days at times back then."
They worked in silence for a moment, helping each other with straps that were hard to reach alone. Gwen laughed softly when one buckle resisted her. When Ventren removed his cuirass and set it down, Gwen paused, frowning.
"You're a Merrow," she said.
Ventren looked at her. "Yes… Is that a problem?"
"No, really… It's just… I didn't notice before," she said. "You're so pale I just assumed—"
She stopped, realizing how it sounded. "I'm sorry. That was inappropriate."
"It's fine, I was expecting worse." Ventren said. He smiled. "Also, that's the point. you know the state of Merrows in this kingdom."
She nodded, partially embarrassed.
Ventren took a blanket from the chest at the foot of the bed and laid it out on the floor.
"You can take the bed."
Gwen crossed her arms. "That's unacceptable. You're a knight of the Royal Guard now."
"I've slept in worse conditions," Ventren replied. "This is fine."
"It's not," she insisted. "Lord Menzo should have given us proper quarters."
Ventren shrugged. "I don't need comfort."
She sighed but did not argue further. As they prepared to rest, Gwen spoke again. "We still haven't seen the daughter. That's our mission."
"Thadeus reacted oddly when I asked," Ventren continued. "A bit different from his usual self. Also, he talks weirdly. What a strange guy, always formal.."
Gwen nodded. "I noticed. But I like the way he treats his wife! What do you think?"
"Pretty." He said simply and dismissively.
I don't have time to think of those matters now.
Ventren lay back on the floor, staring at the ceiling.
And then there's that sacrificial dagger. Based on what I've seen so far, it might just be a relic of war. Or… Perhaps House Menzo was involved in something it should not be.
—/—/—
Gwendolyn lay awake beneath the covers long after the torches in the castle had dimmed. The bed creaked faintly when she shifted, careful not to wake Ventren on the floor beside it. Her face was turned toward the wall but her thoughts were loud enough to keep her from sleeping.
She had watched Lord Thadeus guide his wife through the halls, how his hand never left Azalae's arm, how his voice softened when he spoke to her, how he adjusted his pace to match hers without making it obvious. It stayed with her longer than she wanted to admit.
She pressed her lips together, stifling a quiet giggle that escaped anyway.
Kyuu~ I wish Venty would treat me that way…
She turned onto her back, staring at the dark ceiling.
But that's stupid,we're not even dating… or anything, really.
They were partners. Friends, maybe. Nothing more. They had never spoken about it nor hinted that much and yet, when Ventren had stood silent in the village, when she saw that old woman scream at him, Gwen had felt something settle into her chest that she couldn't name.
She rolled onto her side again and smiled into the pillow despite herself.
"I'm an idiot," she whispered quietly, then finally let sleep take her.