Chapter 4
Part I – The Invitation Problem
The invitation arrived wrapped in gold thread and bad intentions.
I knew this immediately.
It sat on my desk like a threat, wax seal unbroken, parchment thick enough to stop a knife. Noble correspondence always felt like that—less a message, more a challenge.
Sir Dorian hovered nearby, far too pleased with himself.
"You're welcome," he said.
"I didn't thank you," I replied.
"You're thinking it."
"I'm thinking about throwing you out the window."
He laughed. "You won't."
"I might," I said. "This building has many windows."
I broke the seal and unfolded the letter.
Guild Master Rowan Valebright,
In celebration of continued peace between our realms, House Viremont formally invites you and your chosen companion to a private banquet...
I stopped reading.
"...Chosen companion," I repeated.
Dorian nodded enthusiastically. "Couples only. Very exclusive."
"I am not in a couple."
"You are," he said, pointing at the paper. "According to them."
My jaw tightened.
"And you responded already?" I asked.
"Yes."
"With what?" I asked carefully.
He grinned. "Acceptance."
I stared at him.
"You absolute menace."
"Rowan," he said, placing a hand on my shoulder, "this is perfect. A noble banquet! Candlelight! Music! You'll charm her."
"I punch monsters," I said. "I don't dance."
"She'll find that endearing."
I doubted that very much.
Breaking the news to Lila was worse.
Far worse.
She stood behind the front desk, diligently organizing documents, when I approached. The guild hall buzzed with its usual noise, but I suddenly felt acutely aware of every eye that might be watching.
"Lila," I said. "May I speak with you?"
She looked up. "Of course, Guild Master."
Her tone was polite again.
That worried me.
We retreated to my office. I closed the door and immediately regretted it.
"I owe you an apology," I said.
Her shoulders tensed. "About the rumors?"
"...About what comes next," I said.
I handed her the letter.
She read it slowly.
Her eyes widened.
"Couples only?" she asked.
"Yes."
"And Sir Dorian already replied?"
"Yes."
She looked up at me.
"You didn't agree to this, did you?"
"No," I said quickly. "Absolutely not. I was going to decline."
Her shoulders relaxed slightly.
"But," I added, because the gods despised me, "declining may... complicate matters politically."
She blinked. "Politically?"
"This noble house supports the border defenses," I explained. "Refusing could be interpreted as hostility."
"Oh," she said softly.
Silence fell between us.
"I would never pressure you," I said. "If you say no, I'll handle it."
She studied me.
Then she smiled.
"...It's just dinner," she said. "Right?"
My heart skipped.
"Yes," I said. "Just dinner."
"With nobles," she added.
"Yes."
"And dancing," she said.
"...Possibly."
She inhaled slowly.
"I can do that," she said.
I stared at her.
"You're sure?"
She nodded. "If it helps the guild."
And if it helps you, she said.
I swallowed. "Then... thank you."
Her smile was small, but genuine.
The day of the banquet arrived too quickly.
I stood in my room staring at my reflection, wearing formal attire I had not touched in years.
The man in the mirror looked uncomfortable.
Armor made sense. This did not.
"You look presentable," Dorian said from the doorway. "Almost charming."
"I feel like I'm being strangled by fabric," I replied.
"You'll survive," he said. "You've survived worse."
"I've never survived dancing."
He clapped me on the back. "Good luck."
I grimaced.
Lila arrived moments later.
I was not prepared.
She wore a simple but elegant dress, soft blue fabric catching the light. Her hair was styled neatly, but not overly so—practical, still unmistakably her.
She looked... beautiful.
My brain shut down.
"Guild Master?" she asked, concerned. "Is something wrong?"
"No," I said immediately. "Everything is wrong."
She laughed.
"You look very nice," she added.
"...Thank you," I said, voice rougher than intended.
She smiled, cheeks pink.
This was already a disaster.
Part II – The Dance of Survival
The first rule of noble banquets is this:
They are traps.
Every smile hides a question. Every compliment carries a blade. Every glass of wine is an excuse to watch how you hold it.
The moment we stepped into the hall, all eyes turned toward us.
"Guild Master Valebright!" boomed Lord Viremont, a broad man with a polished beard and too many rings. "And your lovely wife!"
I froze.
Lila froze.
Dorian, somewhere far away, probably laughed himself unconscious.
"Ah," I said carefully. "She is—"
"—a treasure," Lila said smoothly, looping her arm through mine.
I nearly choked.
Lord Viremont beamed. "A pleasure! Please, enjoy yourselves."
As we moved away, I leaned down and whispered, "You didn't have to—"
"I did," she whispered back. "They're watching."
She was right.
Every noble gaze followed us.
"Well done," I murmured.
Her smile was tight. "I'm improvising."
So was I.
Dinner passed in a blur of conversation and close proximity.
Too close.
Lila laughed politely at noble jokes. I answered questions about border security and monster activity with practiced ease. All the while, our shoulders brushed, our knees touched beneath the table.
Every contact sent sparks through me.
"You're very calm," she whispered.
"I'm pretending," I whispered back.
She smiled.
That made it worse.
Then came the music.
"Dance," Lord Viremont announced. "As tradition demands."
I stiffened.
"I should warn you," I muttered to Lila, "I am very bad at this."
She squeezed my hand. "Then we'll be bad together."
That was... comforting.
We stepped onto the floor.
I focused intensely on not stepping on her feet.
"You're doing fine," she said.
"I punched a dragon yesterday," I said. "This is harder."
She laughed.
"Rowan," she said softly.
It was the first time she used my name.
Something inside me shifted.
"You're kind," she said. "You don't realize it, but you are."
I swallowed. "So are you."
She smiled up at me, eyes bright.
For a moment, the hall faded away.
Then a scream echoed outside.
Not human.
Dragon.
Of course.
I sighed.
"Do you have to go?" she asked.
"Yes," I said. "But I'll be quick."
I squeezed her hand.
"For the record," she said quietly, "this was a nice date."
My heart stopped.
"This wasn't a—" I began.
She smiled. "I know."
I left before I could say something foolish.
The dragon was dealt with swiftly.
When I returned, soot on my coat, the banquet was in chaos—but Lila stood waiting.
Part III – The Cost of Being Invincible
I found Lila on the balcony.
The banquet hall behind her buzzed with forced laughter and clinking glasses, but out here the night air was cool and quiet. Lanterns floated above the courtyard below, their light reflecting softly in her eyes as she stared into the distance.
She didn't notice me at first.
That worried me.
I closed the door gently behind me.
"Lila," I said.
She startled slightly, then turned and smiled.
It was a practiced smile.
"Everything's under control," she said. "The nobles are calming down."
"That's not what I asked," I replied.
Her smile faltered.
I stepped closer, resting my forearms on the stone railing beside her.
"I came back as fast as I could," I said. "The dragon won't bother anyone again."
"I never doubted that," she said.
Her voice was soft. Too soft.
I waited.
Finally, she exhaled.
"I didn't mean to overhear," she said. "I was looking for you."
My chest tightened.
"What did you hear?"
She hesitated, then turned fully toward me.
"They weren't talking about you like a person," she said quietly. "They were talking about you like... a wall. A sword. Something to be pointed at a problem."
I looked away.
That was familiar.
"They were discussing borders," she continued. "Monster routes. War probabilities." Her hands curled against the railing. "One of them said marrying you into a noble house would be 'strategically efficient.'"
I closed my eyes.
"I'm sorry," I said.
She looked at me sharply. "Why are you apologizing?"
"Because you shouldn't have to hear that," I said. "Not because of me."
She studied my face.
"Is that how it always is?" she asked. "For you?"
I didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
We stood there for a long moment, the sounds of the banquet muffled behind us.
"I thought," she said slowly, "that being the strongest man in the kingdom would mean you could do whatever you wanted."
I let out a quiet laugh.
"That's what everyone thinks."
"And you?" she asked.
"I get told where to stand," I said. "Who to scare. When to fight. When to smile."
I glanced at her.
"When to marry."
Her eyes widened slightly.
"That's not fair," she said.
"No," I agreed. "It isn't."
She hesitated, then reached out—just barely—fingers brushing the sleeve of my coat.
"They didn't see what I saw tonight," she said.
"And what was that?"
"A man who hates formal clothes," she said. "Who apologizes too much. Who leaves a banquet full of powerful people because someone screamed outside."
I smiled faintly.
"They didn't see you come back," she added. "Covered in soot. Making sure everyone was safe."
Her fingers curled slightly in the fabric.
"They didn't see you choose."
Something warm and painful bloomed in my chest.
"Lila," I said quietly.
She looked up at me.
"For the record," she said, "if this were a strategic marriage... I would refuse."
I swallowed.
"And if it weren't?" I asked.
She flushed.
"...Then I would want it to be because you asked," she said. "Not because the world decided for you."
I nodded slowly.
"I would want that too," I said.
Our eyes held.
The distance between us felt suddenly very small.
A cough echoed behind us.
We jumped apart like guilty teenagers.
Sir Dorian stood in the doorway, grinning like a man who had just won a bet.
"Am I interrupting something important?" he asked.
"Yes," I said.
"No," Lila said at the same time.
We both froze.
Dorian's grin widened.
"I'll come back later," he said cheerfully. "Very later."
"Dorian," I warned.
He saluted and disappeared.
Lila covered her face with her hands.
"I'm going to kill him," she muttered.
"You'll have to get in line," I said.
She laughed despite herself.
That sound eased something in me.
The ride back to Eastrun was quiet.
Not awkward.
Comfortable.
The carriage rocked gently as lantern light passed outside the windows. Lila sat across from me, hands folded in her lap.
"You were very convincing tonight," I said.
She glanced up. "At pretending?"
"At being my wife," I said.
Her cheeks colored.
"You weren't so bad yourself," she said. "For someone who doesn't dance."
"I stepped on your foot," I said.
"Only once."
"Twice."
She smiled. "I've had worse."
We fell into silence again.
"Rowan," she said suddenly.
"Yes?"
"...Would you like to have tea sometime?"
I blinked.
"Just tea," she added quickly. "No politics. No rumors."
I smiled.
"I would like that very much," I said.
When we arrived at the guild, the lights were dim. Most of the members were asleep or pretending to be.
I escorted her to the front door.
"Good night," she said.
"Good night," I replied.
She hesitated, then leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to my cheek.
It was brief.
Gentle.
Devastating.
"Thank you," she whispered.
She slipped inside before I could respond.
I stood there for a long moment, hand pressed to my face, heart pounding like I'd just fought another dragon.
Maybe I had.