The Dwarven camp was sturdy and well-organised, with the steady rhythm of hammers and the scent of smoke and steel in the air. Selene and Lagertha flanked me as we entered the central pavilion. I kept my posture straight and my stride confident, then I noticed a woman standing there.
Theodora Medici looked even better than her portrait. The violet hair with that blue flower, bright blue eyes, and the way that sleeveless grey dress hugged her curves immediately caught my full attention. Her two bodyguards stood behind her like walls of muscle and steel, a stocky Dwarf with a thick braided beard and a massive half-orc who radiated aggression.
I met her gaze directly and smiled. ''Lady Theodora Medici,'' I said, voice warm and forward. ''You're stunning. That dress looks incredible on you, it's almost unfair how well it suits you.''
Theodora's eyes widened in clear surprise, a noticeable flush rising to her cheeks. She seemed genuinely taken aback by my direct compliment. Before she could reply, the half-orc bodyguard snarled. ''You arrogant whelp. Speaking to Lady Medici like some common tavern whore, I'll cut that tongue out!''
He ripped his massive axe free in one violent motion, stepping forward threateningly. Power surged through me instantly. I raised my right hand and summoned the black claw, dark energy crackling around my fingers as sharp, hungry, menacing talons formed. The air around it distorted slightly.
Lagertha roared and surged forward, axe raised high, ready to meet the half-orc head-on. Beside me, Selene drew her sword in a single fluid motion, taking her place at my side. Both women stood poised to strike, their bodies taut with anticipation.
''No,'' I said.
Lagertha froze mid-charge. The command stopped her as surely as a wall of stone. Every muscle in her body trembled with restrained fury, but she obeyed, lowering neither her gaze nor her weapon.
Selene remained still as well, though I could feel the tension radiating from her. The Northman woman shifted as if to move again. ''It's nothing to me,'' I said, my voice calm but leaving no room for argument. ''I will not repeat myself.''
Lagertha nodded. ''Yes, master.''
The half-orc hesitated, axe still raised, clearly unsettled by the black claw and my composure. The Dwarven bodyguard gripped his hammer tighter but held his ground. Theodora raised her hand sharply. ''Stand down. Both of you.''
Her voice was authoritative, but I could see the surprise lingering on her face as she stared at the black claw and then back at me. I dismissed the claw with a casual flick of my wrist, letting the dark energy fade away.
Then I pulled out a chair across from her and sat down, still holding her gaze steadily. ''My apologies for the interruption, Theodora. I prefer speaking to you directly rather than trading threats with your guards. You said you wanted to meet, so here I am.''
Theodora slowly sat down as well, composing herself, though the faint flush remained on her cheeks. She studied me carefully, a mix of surprise and growing interest in her eyes as she studied me.
''You are quite forward, Prince Arthur,'' she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. ''Far more composed than most men in your position would be. I didn't come here to fight over Bleakmarch or play political games. I came to sponsor your rise.''
I leaned forward slightly, confident and engaged. ''I'm listening. Tell me more.''
''House Medici has watched the Verona court for many years. Your brothers lack real vision, and your father is always on the defensive. But you… You've drawn powerful allies and shown you can command loyalty. I bring gold, weapons, supplies, and significant influence. In return, I want a true alliance and a place in the future you're building."
Her bodyguards still looked angry, especially the half-orc, but they remained silent under her command. I nodded, meeting her eyes with steady confidence.
''A strong alliance makes sense,'' I replied. ''And I appreciate a woman who knows what she wants. I'm building something worth being part of, Theodora. If you're willing to back me, I'll make sure you have every reason to be glad you did.''
She held my gaze after I spoke, and slowly her face brightened into a warm, radiant expression. The surprise gave way to clear approval, her blue eyes sparkling. ''I like your directness, Prince Arthur,'' she said softly. ''Very well.''
The richest woman on Aldoria extended her hand across the table. I stood and took it with a firm, confident grip. Her hand felt warm and steady in mine. We shook once, the agreement sealed between us.
Theodora turned to her bodyguards. ''Wait outside. I wish to speak with our new friend privately.''
The half-orc still looked unhappy, but both guards bowed and stepped out of the pavilion. I glanced over at Selene and Lagertha. ''You two as well. Wait outside with them. I'll be fine.''
She hesitated for a brief second, concern flashing across her face, but she bowed respectfully. ''As you command, my prince.''
Lagertha gave me a quick grin before following her out. The tent flaps closed, and for the first time, Theodora and I were completely alone. She poured wine for both of us, her movements graceful.
We raised our goblets. ''To bold alliances and brighter futures,'' she said, still beaming.
''To us building something worth remembering,'' I replied, clinking my goblet against hers.
The wine was rich and smooth. We settled into conversation, the atmosphere much more relaxed now. I was forward with my questions and compliments, telling her how impressive she looked managing such a powerful house, and sharing how I had changed the Ninth Legion in such a short time.
She asked about my vision for Verona with interest, laughing lightly at some of my drier observations about court life. In return, Theodora opened up about her own burdens, the weight of leading House Medici's trade empire, her frustration with weak rulers, and why she saw real potential in me.
Her violet hair caught the light beautifully whenever she leaned forward, and I found myself enjoying both her sharp mind and her easy smile. At one point, she set her goblet down and looked at me seriously, though the warmth never left her expression.
''To show my commitment, Arthur, I will send a full year's worth of silver from my reserves. It will be enough to pay your soldiers reliably and keep the Legion strong through this campaign and beyond. Consider it the first part of my sponsorship.''
I met her eyes with confidence. ''That is generous beyond words, Theodora. Thank you. With your support, we'll accomplish far more than either of us could alone. I won't waste this opportunity, or your trust.''
She beamed again, clearly pleased. We continued talking for some time, getting to know one another properly, trading stories, testing ideas, and feeling out the personal side of this new alliance.
The conversation flowed easily, and by the time our goblets were empty, the foundation between us felt strong and promising. This private meeting had gone even better than I anticipated.
Following that, I spent another hour with Theodora before leaving to catch up to the legion. She offered some of her powerful guards to protect me, but I brushed it off. I don't need any more bodyguards.
Just as I stepped out of the tent, the beautiful Dwarf revealed. ''Be careful of the First and Second Princes, Arthur. I've been hearing troubling rumours about who they've been associating with.''
Lagertha, Selene and I got on our horses and rode toward the legion. While travelling, the blonde questioned. ''What did she give you?''
''A year's worth of wages for the Ninth,'' I revealed, smirking when the two women's eyes widened.
''That's millions!'' Selene finally spoke.
''The Medici are filthy rich,'' Lagertha said, laughing at the brunette's shock. ''Even we Northmen knew of them.''
''Yes, she's trying to get close to me,'' I said. ''But I'll take it, it will help with the conquest of Bleakmarch.''
They nodded before we got back to riding, and after a few hours of riding, we spotted the Legionnaire Cavalry scouting the surrounding area. We joined the others as the battle that would change Verona was upon us.
***
(Thoedora Medici)
After Arthur departed, I remained standing outside the pavilion for several minutes, watching him ride away with his companions. The wind tugged at my hair as the three riders gradually disappeared into the distance, heading toward the banners of the Ninth Legion. Around me, craftsmen continued their work uninterrupted.
Hammers rang against metal, carts rattled across packed earth, and the scent of coal smoke lingered in the air. Yet my attention remained on the road long after the mysterious young man was gone.
''My lady?'' Brokk finally asked.
I glanced toward the dwarf bodyguard. ''What is it?''
The veteran warrior studied me carefully. ''You're thinking.''
I laughed softly. ''When am I not?''
''Fair point.''
Gorak snorted. ''She's thinking about the prince.''
I raised an eyebrow. ''Partly.''
The half-orc folded his massive arms across his chest. ''I still don't trust him.''
''No,'' I replied. ''You don't.''
My gaze drifted back toward the horizon; trust wasn't the issue. The issue was uncertainty. For years, I had gathered information on nobles, rulers, generals, merchants, and adventurers across the continent. Information was wealth, knowledge was power. The more I learned about a person, the easier it became to predict them.
Arthur was proving difficult to predict. The reports described an ambitious prince with unusual charisma and remarkable military success despite limited resources. The man himself was something else entirely; he carried himself like someone accustomed to command, yet there was none of the arrogance common amongst royalty.
He had confidence, certainly, but it seemed rooted in genuine belief rather than entitlement. More importantly, he possessed something far more valuable than confidence. People followed him. Not because of his title, not because they feared him. Because they believed in him.
That was considerably rarer. I had watched Selene and Lagertha at the meeting. I knew the blonde Northman; I had given her to him, but for him to gain her loyalty this fast was outstanding. Both women were powerful in their own right, yet the moment he commanded them to stop, they obeyed without hesitation despite being seconds away from violence.
That level of loyalty could not be purchased; it had to be earned. Brokk stepped beside me. ''You gave him a fortune.''
''I invested a fortune.''
The dwarf grunted. ''That's a merchant's answer.''
''Because it's the correct one.''
I turned and walked back into the pavilion. The table remained untouched, the wine goblets still resting where Arthur and I had left them. My thoughts returned to the moment Gorak had drawn his axe. Specifically, to what had happened afterwards. The claw.
Even now, I could remember the strange sensation that had filled the pavilion when Arthur summoned it. Power was nothing new to me. I had seen archmages bend storms to their will. I had witnessed dwarven runesmiths forge weapons capable of breaking castle gates. Once, in my youth, I had even met an ancient dragon disguised as a travelling scholar.
Arthur's magic felt different; it was hungry, predatory. I could tell it was wrong, not evil, just unnatural. The energy surrounding his hand had seemed almost alive, twisting around his fingers before forming those dark talons.
I remembered the way the air itself had distorted around them. The way Gorak's confidence had vanished. The way Brokk had instinctively tightened his grip on his hammer despite decades of battlefield experience.
Warriors recognised danger; both of my bodyguards had recognised it immediately. ''That power concerns me,'' Brokk admitted quietly.
I nodded. ''It should.''
The dwarf frowned. ''You know what it is?''
''No.''
That alone was remarkable. Normally, information found its way to me eventually. Yet every report involving Arthur's strange abilities raised more questions than answers. Some described shadow magic. Others claimed it was an ancient bloodline, and one particularly imaginative report insisted he had made a bargain with an evil god.
I believed none of them; what I believed was what I had witnessed personally. That claw possessed an edge to it. A terrible edge. The moment it formed, I found myself wondering what would happen if those talons struck armour.
Not ordinary armour, Dwarven armour. The finest armour in the world, a chill ran through me. Because my instincts told me that if Arthur continued growing stronger, there might come a day when even master-forged dwarven plate would not be enough to stop those claws. That thought should have been alarming.