Chapter One Tir na Súil, Seventh Day of the Twelfth Month, Lilit

  Lilit had the layout of this room memorized by now. After entertaining this child for the past three days, She had tried to pick out the most welcoming and least intense foyer within the Baron’s mansion so that the Young Halvor would be more comfortable. She had invented stories about each of the finely woven tapestries within the room to tell the boy to pass the time and always ensured that the fire was fed frequently to keep him warm.

  He was a cute and chubby boy of seven years, innocent and trusting, although perhaps not the brightest, considering he happily followed Lilit back to the Baron’s mansion without question or complaint. His laughter and giggling would fill the room as he helped himself to all the food she offered him, becoming enthralled by the many stories she had to come up with as he remained completely unaware of the guards positioned at every exit of this room, observing his every move as if he was a mouse trapped in a cage, surrounded by hawks. Perhaps a mouse would have more awareness or at least more survival instincts. Worst of all, Young Halvor seemed to trust Lilit completely, falling for her sweet smiles, kindness, and care.

  His blind trust in her tugged at her guilt. This sweet, innocent, albeit daft boy was handed over to the Baron as collateral. Lilit remembered his Father’s hands shaking out of fear and desperation as he enthusiastically offered up his son to buy himself more time to gather the money he owed. His eyes were wild with panic as he handed Halvor over to her, staring at her like a cornered rodent. Glancing back towards Halvor as he ate, Lilit wondered if he even knew the meaning of the word “collateral” or if he knew whose mansion he was currently in. Whose food he was helping himself to. She clenched her jaw as she recalled how his Father gripped her arm, begging and pleading, choking out promises that she knew he couldn’t keep.

  “Do you have more orange jam?” Halvor asked, grinning up at her, licking his fingers.

  Lilit smoothed her tense expression into a warm smile as she reached across the table for another jar, wiping the boy's face with a damp napkin.

  Three days had already passed with not so much as a single word from his foolish Father. Lilit tried to focus on Halvor, watching him gleefully spread his orange jam onto biscuits, finding joy in something so simple while her mind wandered back into a darker realm. A task as simple as this shouldn’t have dragged on for this long…, yet here I am, still entertaining this adorable and oblivious little hostage.

  The door squeaked open, barely ajar. Lillit quickly flipped her head around to see one of the guards exchanging words with someone past it. Shortly thereafter, Lilit tried her best to hide her expression of dread behind a plastered-on smile as the Baron came waltzing through the threshold dressed in an opulent scarlet red loose linen shirt with golden embroidery, his matching diamond print jacket that depicted an eye with scarlet tears draped over his shoulders and to fully show off his wealth he was constantly dripping in a golden jewelry set with rubies, garnet, and the only the finest carnelian. Lillit imagined that he had to have been in his late thirties by now, yet he hadn’t aged since they met when she was around five years of age. He always wore a confident smile with leering golden-colored eyes, pale complexion, and pale blonde hair that was always perfectly set into place. Many mistook his toothy smile for being welcoming or ambitious, perhaps even a cat-like character prone to mischief. A carefully crafted facade that far too many had fallen victim to.

  Lilit nervously fidgeted with the signet ring on her left pinky, her fingers passing over the small garnet stones inlaid into the metal, designed to look like red tears falling from the eye engraved at its center. The Baron sat across from them. As if on instinct or even trying to improve his mood, Lilit quickly poured two cups of tea for her and the Baron, preparing it exactly how he liked. Carefully taking a few sips from the cup, she could only wait and imagine what horrible fate Halvor would face if the Baron came here personally to greet him without his Father in tow.

  “How do you like it here, Halvor?” The Baron’s voice cut through the thick silence.

  Lilit glanced over at the boy as he finished his meal, carefully wiping his face before flashing a wide, untroubled grin. “I like it very much, Sir.”

  The Baron leaned forward, shifting his posture with a faint rustle of fabric. “Would you say you like it enough to stay?” he asked, his tone casual, though Lilit noticed the intent behind his gaze.

  She kept her eyes fixed on the Baron, scrutinizing his every move. When he crossed one leg over the other, she noticed smudges of dried blood staining his jacket and the bottoms of his boots.

  Halvor’s face lit up, and he looked at her expectantly. “I can stay here with Miss Lilit?” he asked eagerly.

  “Your father and I have reached an agreement,” the Baron explained, gesturing toward the door he’d entered from. “He sees potential in you, my dear boy. But he believes you’ll only flourish under my guidance.” He paused, letting the words sink in. “He’s agreed to let me raise you and teach you wise business practices while he embarks on a very, very long journey. This woman here is Leda—she’ll be your tutor. And this man is Hienrik, who will ensure you’re well-fed and entertained. As you know, Lilit is here often, so you’ll see her regularly as well. How does that sound?”

  At that moment, Leda and Hienrik entered the room. Hienrik approached with a red-lacquered wooden toy shaped like a horse. Lilit recognized the gesture instantly—she, too, had been introduced to the Baron’s world with gifts, warmth, and soft reassurances. Seeing Hienrik and Leda together almost brought her relief. The boy, she realized, wasn’t disposable. He would be groomed, trained, and molded as an asset.

  Lilit sank into the couch in relief, offering Halvor a warm, reassuring smile.

  “I-I would love to stay.” Halvor cheered eagerly, clutching the red wooden horse close to his chest.

  “And we would love to host you.” The Baron’s smile widened, his gaze remained fixed on Halvor, as if he was evaluating him. “Now, run along with Hienrik. He’ll show you to your new room. Hienrik, all the toys have been delivered, yes?”

  “They have, Your Lordship.” Heinrik promptly replied.

  Halvor skipped toward the door, excitement radiating off him as he peppered Leda and Hienrik with questions about the treasures awaiting him. A quick flick of the Baron’s hand sent the guards retreating in silence, leaving him and Lilit alone in the suffocating quiet of the room.

  The Baron poured himself a drink from his crystal decanters, “What’s your assessment of the child, Lil?”

  She sipped her tea, taking her time to piece together her thoughts. After spending three days with the boy, she had formed quite a detailed evaluation of him: He was a sheltered boy who preferred the company and guidance of women older than him. His mother most likely doted on the boy, shielding him from the world's harshness. His father either didn’t care much for him or had nothing to do with the boy, leaving Halvor within his mother’s protection regularly. Whatever his situation was, it had cultivated a trusting, innocent, and kind young boy, albeit pretty stupid and ignorant of the world.

  “He’s too trusting and a bit daft,” Lilit answered bluntly, setting her teacup down with a soft clink. “In this world, that will get him killed and quickly. But you didn’t take him in for his sharp mind and wit, did you? I assume he has… some sort of value?”

  The Baron chuckled, low and mirthless. “I had some of my Tears visit his father today. Do you know what they found?” The baron swirled the amber-colored spirits within his glass, his normally pleasant facade now dropping altogether as his voice turned cold with disdain. “That pathetic excuse of a worm was standing over the body of his wife. In the event of her death, as it turns out, allows Young Halvor to inherit a bit of wealth set aside by her Father for the boy. The fool killed her, hoping the payout would be large enough to cover his debts. A pathetic gamble if you ask me.”

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  “And you-” Lilit tilted her head, her tone dry but laced with amusement- “you exacted justice, collected your money, and claimed the boy as your next project. If anyone has the god’s favor in this world, it is you.”

  “I believe there is no such thing as having the god’s favor,” He said with a dismissive wave, rolling his eyes. “The gods are as fickle as any other man that bleeds. But some of us are more useful to them than others.”

  Lilit began to impatiently trace the rim of her teacup as the conversation continued into theology and whimsy of the gods. Usually, she would have actively participated in such discussion topics, but Lilit yearned for a new assignment after babysitting for the past three days. She could have sworn that nearly an hour had passed as she exchanged thoughts with the Baron before the conversation finally hit a lull, and she found an opening to redirect it.

  “It’s not like you to linger on small talk this long.” Her lips curled into a faint pout. “Are you finally sending me back to proper work?”

  For a moment, Lilit thought the Baron’s expression twisted into that of disappointment. It had vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by his usual practiced smile, yet she had caught it. She swore she did. Although, she didn’t know what to think of it.

  “So eager to dive back in?”

  “God’s yes.” Lilit let out an exaggerated sigh.

  The Baron swirled the last dregs of his spirits, staring into the depths of his crystal glass as though weighing his words. Finally, he looked up, his impish and mischievous smile made to look so much more dramatic by the flickering firelight.

  “You are to go and work under the House of Hovden.”

  “Never heard of them.” Lilit straightened her back, her eyes narrowing in intrigue.

  “Newly minted nobility,” The Baron explained with a dry chuckle, taking a last swig from his glass and setting it down. “The King rewarded their efforts against the Northern Tribes by handing them control of this city. I imagine they are quite excited to enjoy their poisoned chalice.”

  Lilit arched her eyebrow, pouring herself more tea. “Tir na Súil hasn’t taken to its governors in… what? The past century or so?”

  “Longer,” The Baron corrected. “Every family the King has ever planted here has been uprooted and discarded, absolutely obliterated in the case of the poor Ferris Family. But this one…” He paused, leaning forward as if savoring the thought. “This one might last.”

  “If I do remember correctly, you were the one directly responsible for the destruction of the Ferris Family.” Lilit snorted. “What makes you think this one is any different from the rest?”

  “The Hovdens have earned a reputation for brutality,” He said, his tone interwoven with something that could be mistaken for admiration. “They so thoroughly decimated the rebellion in the North with such efficiency that even the wildest, most savage clans still whisper their name in fear—comparing them to the likes of daemons. Lord Hovden is a pragmatist, and his two sons… well, let’s just say they are formidable in their own way. If anyone can tame Tir na Súil, it’s them.”

  Lilit’s lips curved into a faint smirk. “And yet, you still want me to pry them open.”

  “Of course,” The Baron’s smile returned, as calculating as ever. “The Lord is widowed- his wife’s death many years ago left him with only his two sons and a considerably large company of loyal mercenaries at his disposal. The elder is disciplined. Some say painfully so. A tactician through and through. The Younger?” He leaned back, eyes glistening with excitement. “They call him a demon on the battlefield. Wherever he goes, chaos follows. Ruthless, unpredictable. Both of them will be obstacles or opportunities, depending on how you play it.”

  “And the goal?” Lilit asked, her tone casual.

  “You will go to the Hovden’s as one of my agents. I had the pleasure of meeting with Lord Hovden and he is interested in having a trained assassin posing as a maid to protect them from unknown threats,” the Baron instructed. “While you’re there, I need to know their intentions, goals, and weaknesses. Tir na Súil is a dangerous place for rulers, and I need to understand whether they plan to govern with diplomacy, steel, or something a little more imaginative.”

  “And once I’ve gathered that?”

  The Baron’s voice dropped to a near whisper. “Once we understand them, we’ll give them what they need, or at least what they think they need, so I can weave myself into their plans. Their ambitions will become mine, and their survival will depend on my favor. It’s what I do best.”

  Lilit sipped her tea slowly, “Usually, the Lords of Tir na Súil don’t care to treat with the Ward Barons, considering the Lord wants one of your agents within his employ... Does that mean he has officially recognized you? How did you gain his attention?”

  “They are survivors, my Dear. Former Northern tribesmen turned nobility… they are looking for allies that speak their language in a way,” the Baron responded. “Report to their estate tomorrow at daybreak. You’ll begin your work immediately.”

  Lilit’s smirk deepened. “And here I was worried you’d forgotten how to keep me entertained.”

  The Baron softened his expression, “Stay sharp, Lil. The Hovdens may be new, but their claws are sharp.” He warned.

  She rose up from the couch, making her way towards the door. Her hand rested on the handle before she turned to face him one last time. “Before I go, just how close are you expecting me to get to the Hovdens?”

  The Baron shifted in his chair, propping his boots up onto the table, wearing a tired and more serious expression.

  “As close as it takes,” He said, sharp and clear as if it were a command. “Make yourself indispensable to them. Earn their trust, their reliance. Whatever that might mean.”

  This was different than all the other jobs he had given her before. This wasn’t a snatch and grab or the usual espionage in hopes of taking down another power. For once, the Baron wanted an ally… for what purpose?

  Her gaze didn’t waver. “I should become indispensable no matter what I have to do? No restrictions?”

  The Baron’s eyes became saddened for a mere moment before being replaced by a coldness that she had become all too familiar with.

  “If it means getting into bed with them, so be it. If it means bleeding for them, even better.” He looked away from her staring into the dying fireplace. “You understand the stakes, Lil. Their band of mercenaries, now knights, are formidable enough to catch even the King’s attention. That kind force- that kind of power paired with my cunning… it makes them worthy allies.”

  Lilit’s thoughts raced. She couldn’t help but feel like this was a permanent assignment. Sending Lilit off to the Hovdens to act as a permanent plant within someone else’s house… had she not proven herself to be useful enough? Had she not done enough to make herself irreplaceable to him?

  “Worthy of you, you mean?” She said through clenched teeth.

  “They will either rise or fall in Tir na Súil, and I’ll be the one to decide whichever way it goes.” His tone was harsh and cold. “You will ensure that decision is mine.”

  “You are asking me to gamble quite a lot for this.” Lilit countered, her expression unreadable.

  “Gamble?” The Baron stepped forward, closing the distance between them. “Make no mistake, this is not a gamble. It is a carefully laid out game. You are one of my finest assets. I trust you know how to play. You will make it so that we are untouchable.”

  She held his gaze for a moment longer. Although she still had her doubts, his carefully chosen honeyed words and compliments were enough to drive most of them away.

  She looked towards the floor, unable to fight off the uncertainty. “You aren’t throwing me away, right?”

  “Only a fool sacrifices his most valuable asset, Lilit. You are a Queen among pawns.” He reassured her, directing her chin back up to look at him. “Just remember that every Queen serves her Kingdom, does she not?”

  She could only nod in agreement. Without another word, Lilit slipped out the door, leaving the Baron to the flickering shadows of the dying firelight.