“The Lady Violetta has arrived!”
The sentry’s voice tore through the evening silence of the camp.
Amanda lifted her head from the map. Violetta?
That
Violetta? The Supreme Mage of the Empire? Here? In person?
“Now that’s a surprise,” Randel frowned, setting aside his pencil. “The Empire usually sends envoys, not…”
“Not Supreme Mages?” Amanda finished for him.
She stared at the entrance to the tent, and a strange, uneasy feeling grew inside her. In the book, Amanda didn’t remember her at all — because she hadn’t been there. And now her role was… complicated. Clever, dangerous, proud. But why had she come herself, right here, right now?
“My presence changed something,” Amanda realized. “The Empire has taken a serious interest. And Violetta… she didn’t come to help. She came to watch. To evaluate. To study.”
She adjusted the light mask on her face and straightened her posture.
“Show her in,” Randel told the servant.
The tent fell still.
Violetta entered the way one steps onto a stage — smoothly, majestically, with full awareness of her own superiority. A violet dress threaded with silver, an intricate hairstyle. And eyes the color of violets — cold, appraising.
They found Amanda immediately.
Amanda met her gaze, and everything inside her tightened.
Beautiful. Extremely beautiful. And she’s looking at me like I’m an insect under glass. Why? We’re seeing each other for the first time.
“Lady Guardian,” Violetta inclined her head in a graceful, perfectly respectful bow. Too perfect. “I have heard much of your exploits. Defeating an vanguard single-handedly — most impressive.”
“The forest helped,” Amanda replied, feeling an urge to shrink, to become smaller and less noticeable under the weight of those violet eyes. “I merely guided it.”
“How modest,” Violetta said as she walked to the table. The generals parted before her. She sat down, unrolled the maps, and her gaze slid over Amanda once more. “The Emperor holds in high regard those who know how to… guide.”
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There was no venom in her voice. No open challenge. Yet Amanda could feel it — something was wrong.
She doesn’t know me. We’ve never met. To her, I’m just a figure from reports. So why is she looking at me like that? As if I’ve taken something from her?
She didn’t understand. But the unease inside her continued to grow.
Randel, seated beside her, cast a brief glance at Violetta.
“We are grateful to the Empire for its assistance. Though, I must admit, we did not expect you to come in person.”
“The horde of Gul-Nadar is a threat not only to Aichenwald,” Violetta replied, unrolling the map. Her slender, elegant fingers settled confidently on the parchment. “If the duchy falls, our own lands will be the next line of defense. The Emperor cannot afford the luxury of watching from the sidelines.”
“Reasonable,” Randel nodded.
Amanda remained silent. She stared at the map, but only out of the corner of her eye. All her attention was fixed on the woman across from her.
Why does she look at me like that? As if she hates me. But why? I haven’t done anything to her.
Violetta, as if sensing her gaze, lifted her eyes. Their gazes met.
“Lady Guardian,” her voice was even, almost friendly. “They say you can feel the forest. Can you tell us where Gul-Nadar will strike first?”
Amanda blinked. The question was purely professional, businesslike. No hidden undertone.
“Here,” she pointed at the map, indicating where the old trails emerged toward the gorge from the northeast. “He will try to bypass the fortifications. He’ll strike where we least expect him.”
Violetta nodded.
“We thought the same. Our scouts confirm it — the horde has split. The main force is advancing head-on, but several detachments have broken off to circle around.”
She spoke dryly, professionally. Not a hint of personal animosity.
Amanda relaxed. Just a little.
Maybe I imagined it? Maybe she’s simply focused? Or is that just how her face looks?
She didn’t know. She couldn’t know. Because she hadn’t seen what we — the readers — had seen. She hadn’t heard Violetta screaming in an empty hall, smashing crystal, or whispering into the darkness:
“I will destroy her.”
To Amanda, Violetta was simply a stranger. Dangerous, intelligent, and beautiful — but still a stranger.
And that ignorance was her greatest vulnerability.
The meeting ended an hour later. The generals departed. Randel remained with Amanda.
“She’s strange,” he said quietly, staring at the closed tent flap. “Too… calm. For someone who raced here from the capital in such a hurry.”
“Maybe she’s simply a professional,” Amanda replied.
“Maybe,” Randel looked at her. “But keep your distance from her.”
“Why?”
He paused.
“Intuition.”
Amanda smirked.
“Yours?”
“I have you,” he said, taking her hand. “And I don’t want to take any risks.”
She didn’t answer. But inside, everything warmed.
Meanwhile, Violetta sat in her own tent, gazing at the dying candle. Her fingers gripped the edge of the table until her knuckles turned white.
“She doesn’t know,” Violetta whispered. “She doesn’t know who I am. She doesn’t know that I…”
She fell silent. The candle finally guttered out, plunging the tent into darkness.
“It’s fine,” she said into the emptiness. “She will. Soon.”