The forest edge swallowed sound.
That was the first thing I noticed as we moved east—how the world grew quieter with every step beneath Valmere's trees. The wind still moved, leaves still shifted, but it all felt muted, as if the land itself were listening.
Ril rode beside me, eyes scanning shadow and trunk alike. "Valmere never liked outsiders."
"They tolerate necessity," I said. "That's different."
Behind us, a small force followed—light infantry, scouts, a handful of archers. No banners. No drums. The ridge remained held by Elren and the bulk of our men. This was not a march of strength.
It was a question posed to the woods.
By midday, the answer came.
An arrow struck the ground three paces ahead of my horse. Not loosed in panic. Not a warning shot fired high.
A marker.
We halted instantly.
A figure stepped out from between two oaks—hooded, leather-clad, blade at her hip. She didn't aim another arrow. She didn't need to.
"You walk close to Valmere's skin," she said. "Why?"
I dismounted slowly. "Because Draeven walks closer."
Her eyes flicked to the men behind me. Counted. Weighed.
"You bring war into quiet places," she said.
"No," I replied. "War followed us."
She studied my face for a long moment, then nodded once. "Follow."
It wasn't an invitation.
They led us to a clearing shaped by old decisions. Stone markers half-buried in moss. Paths that curved where they should have gone straight. A place designed to confuse anyone who didn't belong.
At the center stood Liora Thane.
She was exactly as I'd been warned—composed, well-dressed even in the forest, confidence worn like armor. Two Valmere guards flanked her, hands resting on hilts, eyes sharp.
"Kaeldor's commander," she said, smiling faintly. "You move carefully for a man at war."
"I move carefully because I'm at war," I replied.
Her smile widened. "Then you understand me."
Ril stiffened beside me. He felt it too—the tension beneath her words.
"You've been speaking to our allies," I said. "Quietly."
"Is that a crime?" she asked. "Words are cheaper than swords."
"Not when they cut supply lines," I said.
She tilted her head. "You accuse without proof."
I gestured to the trees. "Valmere listens better than it speaks."
The hooded archer from before stepped forward. "She offered coin," the archer said flatly. "And protection."
Liora didn't deny it. "I offered stability," she corrected. "Draeven is reshaping the south. Rashim stirs in the east. Kaeldor bleeds in the middle. Valmere must choose how to survive."
"By selling others first?" Ril snapped.
Liora's gaze flicked to him, unimpressed. "By staying untouched."
I stepped closer until the guards shifted uneasily.
"You know what happens when you play all sides," I said. "Eventually, one decides you're unnecessary."
She met my eyes, unflinching. "And you think you're that side?"
"No," I said. "I think Draeven is."
Silence fell.
She laughed softly. "You assume I fear Draeven."
"You should," I replied. "They don't bargain forever."
Her smile faltered—just a fraction.
That was enough.
I turned to the Valmere guards. "Your queen once won a war by refusing to be found."
The archer's eyes narrowed.
"I'm not here to drag Valmere into this," I continued. "I'm here to warn you. Draeven is watching these woods. Not with armies. With ledgers. With priests. With patience."
Liora's voice sharpened. "And what do you offer instead?"
I looked back at her. "Truth."
I reached into my satchel and tossed a sealed packet at her feet.
She hesitated, then opened it.
Inside were names. Routes. Dates.
Draeven agents she hadn't known were already moving through Valmere territory.
Her face went still.
"You lied to me," she whispered—not to me, but to herself.
I didn't press. I waited.
Finally, she looked up. "What do you want?"
I answered simply. "Stay silent. No coin. No promises. Let the forest do what it always has."
"And if Draeven comes anyway?"
"Then you close your paths," I said. "Like Lysenne did."
The archer nodded once. Approval.
Liora exhaled slowly. "You're forcing my hand."
"No," I said. "I'm giving it back to you."
She made her choice at dusk.
Liora Thane was stripped of her authority publicly—no blood, no chains. Just words spoken before witnesses. Her influence ended not with a scream, but with
indifference.
It was worse.
As we left the forest, Ril spoke quietly. "You didn't kill her."
"No," I said. "She'll live knowing she misjudged the world."
"That's mercy," he said.
"No," I replied. "That's consequence."
We returned to the ridge by nightfall.
Elren met us with grim news. "Draeven tested the line again.
Probing attacks.
Nothing decisive."
"And Stonewake?" I asked.
"Holding."
Good.
I climbed the ridge alone and looked south.
The enemy fires were closer now. Fewer, but brighter. Concentrated.
Valen Draegor was adjusting again.
Somewhere between forest and river, lines were shifting—not on the map, but in the minds of those who thought they could stay untouched.
I remembered something an old captain once said, long before this war.
Stillness is a luxury bought with someone else's blood.
Tonight, Valmere had paid nothing.
Tomorrow, that bill would come due elsewhere.
And when it did, I intended to decide who received it.