The hooded figure's voice carried an ominous weight, each word dropping like a stone into the stillness of the forest.
"The attack on your carriage was just the beginning," they said. "The players in this game are far more dangerous than you realize."
Celeste stood her ground, her dagger glinting faintly in the moonlight. Beside her, Edrick shifted slightly, his blade angling to catch the dim light, a subtle warning.
"Who are you?" Celeste demanded, her voice steady. "And why should we trust you?"
The figure stepped closer, their face still obscured beneath the hood. The insignia on their chest caught the light again—a stylized crow clutching a dagger. It was unmistakably the mark of the King's Shadow, a force as feared as it was mysterious.
"Trust is a luxury neither of us can afford, Lady Varrow," the figure replied. "But your enemies move faster than you think. If you don't act now, they'll dismantle your house piece by piece."
Edrick's jaw tightened. "You speak in riddles. If you know something, speak plainly."
The figure chuckled softly, a sound devoid of warmth. "Very well. The ambush was orchestrated by Lord Valtin, as you suspect. But he's not the true threat. He's merely a pawn, a distraction to keep your attention divided while the real players position themselves."
Celeste's grip on her dagger tightened. "And who are the 'real players'?"
The figure paused, their head tilting slightly as though listening to an unseen presence. Then, they said, "A coalition of noble houses dissatisfied with the crown's recent decrees. They seek to destabilize the realm, starting with those loyal to the throne. Your family is a target because of your brother's position in the royal court."
"My brother?" Celeste's heart sank. "He's no soldier—he serves as the king's strategist. Why would they target him?"
The figure's voice hardened. "Because his mind is more dangerous than any blade. They fear what he might uncover and the alliances he could forge. By eliminating you, they weaken him."
Edrick stepped forward, his sword lowering slightly but his voice sharp. "And what of you? Why reveal this? What's your stake in this game?"
The figure hesitated, then slowly reached up to pull back their hood, revealing a face marked by faint scars and cold, piercing eyes. They appeared neither young nor old, their features chiseled and hard like weathered stone.
"My name is Kieran," they said, their gaze meeting Celeste's. "I serve the King's Shadow, but not all within our ranks are loyal to the crown. Corruption festers even among those sworn to protect the realm. I came to warn you because... if your house falls, the kingdom falls with it."
The weight of Kieran's words pressed on Celeste like a physical force. She studied their face, searching for deceit but finding only grim resolve.
"If what you say is true, then we'll need proof," she said at last. "Something we can use to expose this conspiracy and rally our allies."
Kieran's lips twitched into a humorless smile. "Proof won't save you, Lady Varrow. Action will. Your estate is already being watched, and your enemies grow bolder by the day. They won't wait for you to gather evidence—they'll strike when you least expect it."
Celeste exchanged a glance with Edrick, who gave a barely perceptible nod.
"Then what do you propose?" she asked.
Kieran's expression darkened. "Gather your forces, fortify your defenses, but most importantly, control the narrative. Send word to your allies not just of your peril but of the crown's need for unity. If you can rally them to your cause, you might just survive the storm that's coming."
"And what of you?" Edrick asked. "Will you vanish into the shadows as soon as we turn our backs?"
Kieran's gaze shifted to him, unblinking. "I'll remain in the shadows, but not to vanish. I'll be watching, listening. If you need me, you'll know where to find me."
With that, Kieran stepped back, the darkness seeming to swallow them whole. In the blink of an eye, they were gone, leaving only the faintest rustle of leaves in their wake.
Celeste exhaled slowly, the tension in her shoulders easing but not disappearing. "Thoughts?" she asked, her voice low.
Edrick sheathed his sword, his expression grim. "They could be lying. This could be another ploy to manipulate you."
"Perhaps," Celeste admitted. "But their warning aligns too closely with the attack to be coincidence. We'll act cautiously but decisively."
Edrick nodded. "What's the plan?"
Celeste's eyes gleamed with determination. "We strengthen our defenses, send urgent word to my brother, and call upon the old pacts. If Kieran is right, we'll need every ally we can muster."
As they made their way back to the estate, Celeste felt a renewed sense of purpose. The shadows might be closing in, but she was no helpless prey. She was Celeste Varrow, and she would prove to her enemies that crossing her was a mistake they wouldn't live to regret.
The Varrow estate would not fall. Not while she still drew breath.
By the time Celeste and Edrick returned to the estate, the horizon was faintly tinged with gray. The first light of dawn illuminated the manor's formidable walls, but the warmth it promised felt distant, as though the estate itself sensed the storm on the horizon.
Inside, the staff bustled about, some visibly uneasy. Whispers of last night's ambush and strange shadows in the woods had already spread. Celeste passed through the grand hall with Edrick in tow, her measured stride silencing the murmurs as she ascended the staircase.
"Summon Lady Yvonne and Lord Beric to the war room," she instructed a passing servant. "We'll convene in an hour."
The servant bowed low and hurried off.
Edrick followed her into the private study, where she closed the heavy oak door behind them. She leaned against the desk, her expression troubled but composed.
"Kieran's words," she began, "if true, mean we're walking a razor's edge. Valtin isn't just a rival—he's a pawn in a much larger game."
Edrick nodded, removing his gauntlets and setting them on a nearby table. "If Kieran speaks the truth, we can't delay. What if Valtin moves while we're still fortifying?"
Celeste's fingers drummed against the desk. "That's precisely why we must act on multiple fronts. Strengthening the estate is only part of our strategy. The alliances we forge in the coming days will determine our survival. I want envoys dispatched to the following houses: Greythorne, Ravenspire, and Falkland."
Edrick's brows furrowed. "House Ravenspire? They've been neutral for years. What makes you think they'll pick a side now?"
"Ravenspire owes a debt," Celeste replied, her voice cold. "My father once shielded them from ruin when Valtin turned his ambitions on their holdings. Remind them of that, if necessary."
Edrick smirked faintly. "Leverage. You're sounding more like a Varrow every day."
Celeste allowed herself a brief smile. "Desperate times, Sir Edrick."
The sound of hurried footsteps in the hallway interrupted them. A moment later, the door swung open to reveal a young guard, his face pale.
"My lady, Sir Edrick," the guard said, catching his breath. "You need to come to the west gate. Now."
Celeste exchanged a glance with Edrick. "What is it?"
"Strangers," the guard said. "Riding under a banner... but it's not one we recognize."
---
The west gate was a flurry of activity. Guards lined the walls, their bows trained on a small group of riders who had stopped just outside the estate's perimeter. Their banner, a deep crimson adorned with a black wolf, flapped in the cold morning breeze.
Celeste and Edrick approached, their presence immediately drawing the attention of the sentries.
"What's their story?" Edrick asked the captain of the guard.
"They arrived minutes ago, my lord," the captain replied. "Claimed to be messengers, but they wouldn't say from whom. Only that they have urgent business with Lady Varrow."
Celeste stepped forward, her voice cutting through the tension. "Let them speak."
The captain hesitated but barked an order. The gates creaked open just enough for the lead rider to dismount and step through. He was tall and wiry, his face weathered and his eyes sharp.
"Lady Varrow," he said, bowing low. "I bring a message from the Crimson Pact."
Celeste's brow furrowed. The Crimson Pact was no noble house but an infamous mercenary coalition—one known for its ruthlessness and efficiency. Their services were often bought by the highest bidder, and their allegiance could shift with the wind.
"You're far from your usual haunts," Celeste said coolly. "What business does the Crimson Pact have with the Varrow estate?"
The messenger straightened, his expression unreadable. "Our employer wishes to ensure your survival, my lady. They have tasked us with offering you our services—for a price."
Edrick's hand instinctively went to his sword. "And who is this employer?"
The messenger smirked faintly. "That is not for me to say. Only that they are invested in Lady Varrow's continued... health."
Celeste's eyes narrowed. This could easily be a trap—a ploy by Valtin or another enemy to infiltrate her estate. Yet the Crimson Pact's reputation for completing their contracts was unmatched. If their loyalty could truly be secured, they might provide the muscle needed to fend off any immediate threats.
"What is this price?" Celeste asked, her voice steady.
The messenger hesitated, then produced a sealed letter from within his cloak. "It is outlined here. Read it at your leisure, but understand this: our offer will not remain on the table indefinitely."
Celeste took the letter, her fingers brushing against the crimson wax seal stamped with the image of a wolf. She turned it over in her hands, her mind racing.
"Return to your men," she said finally. "I'll consider your offer and send word if I accept."
The messenger bowed again, retreating to his horse. As he mounted, he called over his shoulder, "Consider quickly, my lady. The shadows grow long, and the wolves are already circling."
The gates creaked shut behind him, and Celeste turned to Edrick, her expression grim.
"Well?" Edrick asked.
"They'll either be an asset or a dagger in our backs," Celeste replied. "But if Kieran was right, we'll need every advantage we can get."
"Do you trust them?"
"I trust that they value coin above all else," she said, tucking the letter into her cloak. "And for now, that might be enough."
---
Back in the manor, Celeste broke the seal on the letter, her advisors gathered around her in the study. The terms were simple yet steep: a substantial payment of gold and access to a portion of the Varrow family's armory.
"Outrageous," Lord Beric muttered. "To give mercenaries our weapons? It's an insult to our house."
"They're not interested in pride, Lord Beric," Celeste replied. "They're interested in results."
Lady Yvonne leaned closer, her sharp eyes scanning the letter. "And if they betray us?"
Celeste set the letter down, her expression hard. "Then we'll ensure they regret it. For now, they're a calculated risk I'm willing to take."
The room fell silent, the weight of her decision pressing down on all of them. Celeste looked up, her gaze sweeping over her advisors.
"Prepare the payment," she said. "If we're to survive, we must gamble—and gamble wisely."
Edrick placed a hand on the hilt of his sword, his voice low. "Let's hope the Crimson Pact values their reputation more than the highest bidder."
As the first rays of sunlight pierced through the clouds, Celeste couldn't shake the feeling that the wolves were indeed circling—and that the real battle was only just beginning.