Book 1: Chapter 47 - The Reward [Part 1]

  Jewelry speaks without saying anything. They are more than precious metals or stones. These objects might have a few or thousands of stories. The significance will not always be apparent, especially to those of lower breeding, to those seeing the jewelry but will remain evident to the wearer.

  - Seraphina de Sariens.

  Seraphina awoke beneath yet another unfamiliar ceiling, this one plastered white over wood. From the dim red light streaming in through a narrow window, she guessed it must be late evening.

  “She’s up!” cried her maid, Miriam, who hovered nervously at her side, adjusting her spectacles to get a better look at her mistress.

  “What day is it? What time?” Seraphina rasped, her throat still raw. She felt the comforting slithering presence of her pet snake in her nightie. Was it her imagination or did Cornelia feel heavier?

  At least Cornelia was safe. In hindsight, it had been a foolish thing to expose the snake to the Banshee’s wail.

  “You’ve only been asleep for a few hours, milady,” Miriam answered, twisting a braid between her fingers.

  Seraphina frowned. This display of weakness simply would not do.

  “Leave us,” she ordered, her voice firm despite the lingering hoarseness. “Actually, get me something to drink. Tea if you please.”

  “Yes, milady. I’ll bring you something to drink,” Miriam said quickly, retreating in haste and shutting the door behind her.

  At last alone, Seraphina summoned the power of Heal, forcing its song to echo silently in the recesses of her mind. Her throat still ached—a curse for one who relied on her voice so heavily. Yet, almost at once, the magic of the Covenant coursed through her with infinite slowness, mending every ache and pain as her prayer was woven into Mana.

  Moments later, she let out a small breath, marveling at the restored strength in her body. Right as rain once more.

  Experimentally she got out of bed and moved about, stretching.

  It felt as though she had barely exerted herself at all. Completing the Trial had granted her a generous bounty of experience—far more than she would have earned simply hunting monsters. Typically, such Trials fell under the purview of the Adventurer’s Guild, which was precisely why Aranthia’s laws dictated that any Guild member above Iron Rank could be conscripted in times of national defense. Seraphina understood the rationale behind it, even if she did not particularly like it.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Frowning, she realized the Guild might not be pleased if two of their members vanished under mysterious circumstances. Perhaps she really should register with them; though the notion of a noblewoman turning adventurer would scandalize Aranthian society.

  Then again, many of the awkward types she had encountered cared little for societal norms. Such pathetic people often languished at society’s fringes, unless they managed to achieve something significant or useful. Reputation, after all, was everything in human circles. And yes, Seraphina did care about hers—but not quite enough to override the promise of power.

  Now, her experiment successful, she intended to hire a few more rogue adventurers to guide her to additional Trial sites. Joining the Guild would be an absolute last resort.

  Seraphina believed in equality between the sexes—when it served her. She had no desire to be forced into the ranks of Aranthia’s standing army should war break out.

  A soft knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.

  “One moment!” she called, pleased that her voice rang out clearly. Slipping on a red robe draped over a nearby chair, she faced the door. “Come in!”

  Miriam entered, followed by Eloise de Laney, who looked even more anxious than usual.

  “I’m glad to see you awake, Lady Seraphina,” Eloise said with relief.

  “Yes, as you can tell, I am perfectly well—both in body and mind,” Seraphina replied, a hint of pride in her voice. “Let’s have a bit of tea while we discuss what transpired during my little…nap.”

  She directed them toward a small round table by the bed. Miriam bustled about, setting out cups and saucers while the two young women took their seats.

  “What inn is this?” Seraphina asked, giving her nails a quick inspection. It would be dreadful to discover one had broken.

  “The Brutish Boar,” Eloise explained. “It’s popular with merchants traveling the King’s Highway from Aran.”

  Miriam poured a fragrant, floral tea for each of them. “Chamomile from Rochelles, milady—good for relaxation. I thought it best, considering all you’ve been through,” she said nervously.

  “A fine choice, Miriam,” Seraphina approved with a nod. The maid nearly beamed at the praise.

  As the delicate cups steamed, filling the room with a comforting aroma, Seraphina turned to Eloise. “You are well, I hope? The Trial was intense. I am sure it was taxing.”

  “Mostly just frazzled nerves,” Eloise admitted, eyes still wide. “It was exciting, but when you ventured into the mists alone, I feared we might never see you again!”

  “I would not step blindly into peril.” Seraphina gave her a reassuring look. “I had every confidence in what we would face once inside the Trial.”

  Eloise furrowed her brow. “The Sight?”

  “Perhaps.” Seraphina offered only a mysterious smile.

  “What did you face beyond the mists?” Eloise pressed.

  “Yes, do tell us!” Miriam chimed in eagerly before shrinking back under Seraphina’s mild glare.