Chapter 16:
THE SILVER STORM'S ENTRANCE.
The study door didn't open.
It exploded inward with a crash that made everyone jump, the wood slamming against the wall hard enough to leave a dent.
Sirenia stood in the doorway like a warrior goddess descending for judgment. Her silver hair flowed behind her as if caught in an invisible wind. Her blue eyes blazed with fury that could have melted steel. She wore traveling clothes—had clearly just arrived home and overheard the conversation between lhoralaine and her father—but she looked ready for war.
"Yes! You're actually right, Dad! I am seeing him! I am seeing Hexia! And I love him!" She pointed at Lhoralaine, her finger extended like a weapon. "I can love him more than this manipulative bitch right here!"
Lhoralaine stood slowly, her chair scraping against the floor. "Well, isn't this a surprise!"
"As you can see, Dad, I actually care for him! Unlike this woman right here, who is just making Hexia an option for her convenience!"
"Oh, really?! For my convenience?!" Lhoralaine's voice rose to match Sirenia's volume.
"After you stole him from me?! Hell, I'm the first one here to suggest stopping the execution of Hexia, and now you—you think you can just swoop in and steal the credit again from me?!"
Both women were advancing now, circling like wolves sizing each other up before a fight to the death.
Lord Cruxxe stood nervously, hands raised in a placating gesture. "Oh! Oh! Sirenia, my dear! I-I had no idea you'd come home so soon! Uh, please—the two of you—calm down!"
They didn't calm down.
They got closer. Faces inches apart. Eyes locked in mutual fury.
"You don't get to play the victim here, Lhoralaine." Sirenia's voice dropped, becoming more dangerous in its quietness. "You made your choice. You chose Fred. You chose the lie over the truth. And now that your lie is dead, you think you can just waltz back into Hexia's life?!"
"I loved him first! I've known him my entire life! You've known him for six months!"
"And in those six months, I've done more for him than you did in years! I made him smile! I made him feel! I brought him back from the dead!"
"By taking advantage of his past! By positioning yourself as his savior! You're just as manipulative as Fred was!"
Sirenia's eyes went ice cold. The temperature in the room seemed to drop. "Take. That. Back."
"Why? Because it's true?! You saw a broken man and decided he'd make a good project! Well, newsflash—he's not yours to fix!"
"And he's not yours to claim just because you finally grew a spine!"
The air crackled with tension. Lord Cruxxe tried to interject, stepping between them, but they weren't listening. They were locked in their own world of mutual rage and pain.
Then Lhoralaine shoved Sirenia. Hard. Square in the chest.
Sirenia stumbled backward, caught herself against a bookshelf, looked at Lhoralaine with shock and rage warring on her face.
"Did you just—"
"What are you going to do about it?!"
Sirenia smiled—but it wasn't friendly. It was the smile of a predator about to strike. "Oh. Oh. So that's how we're doing this."
She shoved Lhoralaine back. Harder. With intent.
Lhoralaine crashed into a different bookshelf. Books tumbled. A decorative vase shattered against the floor.
"GIRLS! STOP! This is not—"
But it was too late.
Lhoralaine launched herself at Sirenia.
THE BRAWL OF HEARTS
They collided in the middle of the study, grappling, struggling, a tangle of limbs and hair and three weeks of suppressed fury.
"You! Stole! Him! From! Me!" Lhoralaine grabbed Sirenia's hair, yanking hard.
"He! Was! Never! Yours!" Sirenia grabbed back, their faces inches apart.
They spun, crashed into Lord Cruxxe's desk. Paperwork flew everywhere. Ink spilled across important documents. The carefully organized study became chaos incarnate.
The guards at the door watched with horror and morbid fascination. What were they supposed to do? Break up a fight between their lord's daughter and a B-rank adventurer? That was a career-ending move either way. Someone was going to be angry no matter what they did.
Lhoralaine got a grip on Sirenia's collar and pulled. The fabric tore with a sound like ripping silk.
Sirenia retaliated with a punch that caught Lhoralaine in the stomach. Lhoralaine staggered but didn't fall—three weeks of obsessive training had made her stronger, more resilient.
All that pent-up rage, all that unprocessed emotions—it was coming out now.
She tackled Sirenia. They went down hard, hitting the expensive carpet with a crash that shook the room.
They rolled across the floor, knocking over furniture, breaking decorations, destroying years of careful collection.
Sirenia got on top, pinning Lhoralaine's wrists to the floor. "Give! Up! You! Can't! Win!"
"I! Don't! Care!" Lhoralaine thrashed, bucked hard, threw Sirenia off with desperate strength.
They scrambled to their feet, circling again. Both breathing hard. Both bloodied—split lips, scratches forming angry red lines across skin, bruises already starting to color.
Both furious. Both desperate. Both fighting for something they thought would save them.
"ENOUGH!"
Lord Cruxxe's voice boomed through the room—the voice of authority honed by decades of leadership. Both women froze mid-motion, turned to look at him.
He stood tall, imposing despite his age, his face set in an expression of disappointment and fury that would have made grown men quail.
"What in the blazes is wrong with you two?! Fighting like street thugs in my study! Destroying my property! Over a man?!"
He gestured at the chaos around them—overturned furniture, scattered papers, broken decorations, books strewn everywhere, ink spreading across the carpet like blood.
"I raised you better than this, Sirenia! And you, Lhoralaine—you're a B-rank adventurer! Act like it!"
"Dad, you don't understand—"
"Oh, I understand perfectly! Two women fighting over a man who apparently murdered someone! A man who's about to be executed! And instead of handling this like adults, you're brawling in my study like children!"
"With all due respect, my lord—"
"I don't want your respect right now! I want you to stop fighting in my house!"
Silence fell like a guillotine. Both women panted, glared at each other, but they weren't moving anymore. Lord Cruxxe's authority—the weight of his position—held them in place.
Lord Cruxxe took a deep breath, visibly composing himself. When he spoke again, his voice was calmer but no less firm.
"Now. Here's what's going to happen. You both clearly have... feelings for this Hexia person. Strong feelings. Violent feelings, apparently."
He looked between them, his gaze sharp and assessing.
"And you both want him spared from execution. Fine. I can work with that. But this?" He gestured at the destruction.
"This ends now. Or I'll have you both thrown in the dungeon for destruction of property and disturbing the peace. And I don't care if you're my daughter or a B-rank adventurer. The law applies to everyone."
"Dad—"
He held up a hand, cutting her off. "I'm not finished. You want to fight over him? You want to prove who 'deserves' him? Fine. But you'll do it properly. Publicly. With rules."
Both women looked at him, confusion replacing some of the fury on their faces.
"I'm proposing a duel. Public. Official. Witnessed. At the trial. Let the people—and more importantly, let him—see you fight. Let them judge. Let him choose based on who he sees, not who manipulates the situation behind the scenes."
"A duel," Lhoralaine said slowly, her mind already racing through the implications.
"You want us to fight... in public?" Sirenia asked, incredulous.
"Yes. At Hexia's trial. Which I'm now moving from a simple execution to a proper trial—thanks to your 'input,' Lhoralaine. The trial will be public. The duel will be public. Everything will be transparent. No more manipulation. No more schemes. Just honesty."
He looked at both of them seriously, his expression grave.
"And whoever wins the duel gets my official support in their pursuit of Hexia. The loser backs off. Permanently. Agreed?"
Silence stretched between them, heavy with consideration. Both women were thinking, calculating, processing what this meant.
Lhoralaine spoke first. "And you'll pardon Hexia? Regardless of who wins?"
"If the trial determines it was self-defense—which, given what you've told me about Fred's manipulation, seems likely—then yes. I'll pardon him."
Sirenia nodded slowly. "And the duel will be fair? No interference?"
"On my honor as Lord of Briarkeep."
More silence. Then, simultaneously, they both nodded.
"Agreed."
"Agreed."
Lord Cruxxe sighed in relief, his shoulders sagging slightly. "Good. Now get out of my study. Both of you. Before I change my mind and arrest you for domestic violence."
They left separately, glaring at each other as they passed in the doorway, neither willing to give ground even in something as simple as who exited first.
Lord Cruxxe collapsed into his chair, looked at the destruction—the scattered papers, the broken vase, the overturned furniture, the ink staining his carpet, the books everywhere.
"I need a drink. A very large drink." He called to the guards. "Clean this up. And send word to Korn Village. Tell them to bring Hexia here for trial in three days. And tell them... tell them it's going to be interesting."
The guards exchanged glances, then nodded and departed to carry out his orders.
Lord Cruxxe sat alone in his ruined study, wondering how his quiet evening had turned into this particular nightmare.
To be continued...