Reivan had a rule about unexpected encounters on the road: if someone jumped out in front of his caravan, it was either a merchant looking for a deal, a noble looking for trouble, or someone looking to kill him. The problem was that today, it was none of the above.


    Beastkin warriors stepped into the path, weapons drawn, eyes cold. There were six of them, and they looked like they had been waiting. That was never a good sign.


    Reivan sighed, nudging Sylpkx. "Friend of yours?"


    Sylpkx, uncharacteristically silent, just crossed her arms. That was even worse.


    Then, from behind the warriors, Khaedros emerged. He wasn’t in imperial fashion anymore—this time, he wore the hardened leather and steel of a warleader. His golden eyes locked onto Sylpkx with something between irritation and determination.


    "The time for running is over," Khaedros said, voice like gravel. "You will come back, or the war will decide for you."


    Reivan held up a hand. "Okay, first of all, dramatic much? Second, I’m gonna need more context before we get to the whole ‘dragging Sylpkx away by force’ bit."


    "This does not concern you, merchant."


    "Oh, buddy, that was the wrong thing to say to me."


    Reivan dismounted, dusted off his coat, and casually stepped forward, hands in his pockets. "See, I love when people say things like that. It’s like a free invitation to ruin their plans. So go ahead, explain. What exactly do you want from her?"


    Khaedros exhaled through his nose, clearly restraining himself. "Her claim cannot be ignored any longer. The clans are gathering. Some will follow the empire. Others will fight. And the Ironfang will not stand divided."


    Sylpkx finally spoke, her voice dry. "Oh, how noble of you. Let me guess, the second I step back into the clan, I get ‘politely’ removed from the board?"


    Khaedros’ jaw tightened. "You do not understand—"


    "No, I understand perfectly. The second I exist within reach, I become a problem. The empire might start looking at me as a useful puppet, and your rivals might decide I’m worth keeping alive as a counter to you. You’d rather I just conveniently disappear, wouldn’t you?"


    The warriors around them shifted slightly, but Khaedros didn’t deny it.


    Reivan tilted his head. "So, let me get this straight. You don’t actually need Sylpkx for the political game, but the mere fact that she’s around messes up your plans. Sounds to me like the simplest solution is to… not acknowledge her at all. But you’re here, making a big scene. So that tells me something interesting."


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Khaedros’ gaze flicked to him. "And what is that?"


    Reivan smirked. "You’re afraid she might actually take the throne."


    Silence.


    Then Sylpkx blinked. "Wait, what?"


    Reivan casually strolled forward, gesturing lazily. "Think about it. If Sylpkx was really just some half-blood mistake, you wouldn’t even need to deal with her. But instead, you come all this way. You challenge her in front of your warriors. You create a spectacle. That’s not what you do to an exile you want forgotten. That’s what you do when you’re laying the groundwork for eliminating a rival."


    Khaedros’ expression didn’t change, but Reivan could see the calculation behind his eyes.


    Sylpkx groaned. "Great. So I could be a tribal queen, but only in the ‘everyone wants me dead’ kind of way. Fantastic."


    "You mock serious matters—"


    "Oh, you must be new here," Reivan cut in. "Mocking serious matters is our entire thing."


    Khaedros exhaled, stepping forward. "She must return. If you stand in the way—"


    "Yeah, yeah, I know. ‘Blah blah, you’ll regret it.’ Very scary. Except, tiny problem—" Reivan tapped his temple, smirking. "I have a really bad habit of not regretting things."


    Khaedros took another step forward, but then it happened.


    A pressure settled over the air, thick and heavy. The beastkin warriors flinched, their ears flicking as their bodies tensed. Sylpkx’s eyes narrowed, and even Khaedros paused.


    Reivan smiled.


    The Warden’s Oath hummed against his skin. He could feel it—hostile intent, like invisible heat radiating off his opponents. He didn’t see it, not in the traditional sense, but his instincts sharpened, movements slowing to a perfect, controlled rhythm.


    Then Khaedros moved.


    It wasn’t an attack. Not exactly. But it was fast, a flicker of motion as he closed the gap between them—testing, challenging.


    And Reivan dodged.


    Not consciously. Not even fully aware of how he did it. His body simply reacted, stepping just slightly to the side at the perfect moment, avoiding Khaedros’ advance with infuriating ease.


    Khaedros stopped short, golden eyes narrowing. "That was not luck."


    Reivan grinned. "Oh, you have no idea."


    The warriors were tense now. Reivan could feel them assessing him, reassessing the balance of power in the conversation. And more importantly?


    Khaedros was, for the first time, hesitating.


    Sylpkx stepped beside Reivan, tilting her head. "So, what now, warlord? You’ve got your ultimatum. We’ve got our answer. You really want to turn this into a mess? Because I promise you, it’ll be so much worse than you think."


    Khaedros looked at her for a long moment. Then, slowly, he nodded.


    "This is not over."


    "It never is," Reivan said cheerfully. "Now run along, you’ve been very scary, good job."


    Khaedros turned and left, his warriors following. When they were gone, Reivan finally let out a long breath.


    Sylpkx nudged him. "You dodged Khaedros. Do you even realize how ridiculous that is?"


    Reivan smirked. "Nope, but I intend to abuse it mercilessly."


    Sylpkx was quiet for a moment. Then she looked at him, something different in her expression.


    Not amusement.


    Not exasperation.


    Something warmer.


    "Thanks, Reivan."


    He blinked. "For what?"


    "For not making me do this alone."


    Reivan scratched his neck, suddenly awkward. "Yeah, well. You’d do the same."


    She grinned. "Obviously."


    And just like that, things were different. Not in a grand, dramatic way. But in the way that mattered.


    Because now, Sylpkx wasn’t just following him.


    She was staying because she chose to.