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At the gates of Charas, we were stopped by several guards, their expressions cautious as they scrutinized us. Mannes stepped forward immediately, unfurling the documents we had been given, the official seal of our mission clearly visible. Despite his calm demeanor, I could tell Mannes was keeping his temper in check—being held at the city gates when we had official business was always an irritant, but patience was key. After a tense moment, the guards glanced over the documents, then turned to Tadeos, who was standing silently beside us, his face etched with frustration at the delay.

One of the guards squinted at Tadeos, clearly recognizing him. That seemed to ease the tension somewhat, but the guard captain wasn’t fully convinced. “Alright,” he said gruffly, “you can enter under supervision. But you’ll leave your weapons outside the city walls.”

I exchanged a quick look with Mannes and Cassius. Leaving our weapons behind didn’t sit well with any of us, but we had no choice. Valandians were notoriously strict about outsiders bringing arms into their cities, and there was no point arguing. With some reluctance, we removed our swords, knives, and any other weapons we carried, placing them in a secure box by the gate. I felt a strange vulnerability without the familiar weight of my sword at my side, but we had a job to do.

Inside the city, Charas was a sight to behold. The architecture reminded me of European cities I’d studied and seen in the past—sturdy, stone buildings with pointed arches, grand facades, and cobbled streets that twisted and wound like a maze. The buildings were decorated with ornate carvings, many of them depicting ancient battles or scenes of the Valandian kingdom’s victories. I could feel the history here, the weight of centuries of tradition and warfare etched into every stone.

As we made our way through the streets, we passed bustling markets filled with merchants hawking their wares—fabrics, spices, and finely crafted weapons I wasn’t allowed to touch, for now. The people here, unlike the architecture, were rougher, their clothes simpler and their expressions wary. Valandians were known for their pride and their warlike nature, and it showed in every person we passed. There was a toughness to them, a sharpness in the way they carried themselves. I could feel the eyes of the townspeople on us, curious but distrustful of the newcomers in their midst.

After a short walk, we arrived at the governor’s palace, an imposing structure that stood at the heart of Charas. The guards at the entrance were expecting us and led us inside without delay. Mannes, Cassius, and I were the only ones allowed in, while the rest of our group stayed behind. As we entered, I took in the grand halls, lined with tapestries and banners of the Valandian kingdom. The stone walls were cool to the touch, and the air inside was thick with the scent of burning wood from the large hearth at the far end of the chamber.

We were asked to wait in a receiving room, and after a brief time, Baron Ingalther of House Dey Cortain appeared. His entrance was anything but warm. The man looked to be in his mid-40s, his reddish hair streaked with gray, and a beard that gave him a rugged, almost battle-worn appearance. He had the air of someone constantly dissatisfied with the world around him. The sharpness in his gaze as he looked us over suggested he wasn’t pleased with our presence, and I could already sense that this wasn’t going to be an easy meeting.

"Welcome," Ingalther greeted us, his voice cold and flat. There was no real warmth in his words. As he turned to his aide, he let out a small sigh, as if dealing with us was a necessary burden. "See what our kingdom has come to," he said, loud enough for us to hear. "Making deals with those who’ve killed my men. Derhert is a coward, and he’s no good for our Valandian kingdom."

The boldness of his words took me by surprise. Derhert was the king of Valandia, and to speak ill of him so openly showed just how bold and reckless Ingalther truly was. The fact that he didn’t seem to care about any potential consequences told me that he was a man with little regard for authority—unless it was his own.

Mannes kept his expression neutral, but I could sense the tension in his posture. We weren’t here to get involved in Valandian politics, and the last thing we needed was to get dragged into a dispute between nobles.

Ingalther turned to Mannes with a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t want to hand over my treasure to my own rivals,” he said, his tone dripping with disdain. “But unfortunately, that coward Derhert wants to have peace with you, and I don’t trust either your king or mine.”

His eyes flickered to Tadeos, who stood silently by the door. “As insurance,” Ingalther continued, “I needed Tadeos here, a blood relative of Garios. With him under my care, Garios will think twice before declaring war on us. You’ve done well to bring him to me.”

Mannes shifted uneasily, clearly unhappy with the turn of events. Ingalther’s voice became more menacing as he leaned in slightly. “Now, leave him here. And remember, if Garios ever makes a move against Valandia, I’ll kill every last one of his family.”

There was a brief silence as the weight of Ingalther’s words hung in the air. Then, he waved his hand dismissively. “As for the treasure that my family has kept for decades, take care of it and deliver it to Garios. Make sure it reaches him intact.”

At that moment, one of Ingalther’s men entered the chamber, carrying a bundle wrapped in a worn, velvet cloth. But as they brought it closer, I suddenly felt a wave of dizziness wash over me. My vision began to blur, and the edges of the room seemed to tilt and warp. My head felt heavy, like it was full of lead, and I struggled to stay upright.

Then, I heard it. A voice. A robotic, feminine voice—one I hadn’t heard in days—echoing inside my mind.

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I clutched my head as the voice repeated itself, over and over, growing louder with each passing moment.

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My knees buckled, and the last thing I remembered was Mannes shouting my name before everything went black.

When I finally regained consciousness, the first thing I noticed was the ceiling above me. A beautiful chandelier hung from it, casting soft light around the room. The bed beneath me was far more comfortable than any I’d slept in recently, and the sheets felt smooth against my skin. I blinked a few times, trying to shake off the disorientation.

Mannes and Silvana were both standing near the bed, relief evident on their faces as they realized I was awake. Silvana stepped closer, her brow furrowed with concern. “Are you alright?” she asked, her voice soft but urgent.

I sat up slowly, rubbing my temples as the pounding in my head began to fade. “Yeah… I think so,” I replied, though my voice was hoarse, and my body still felt weak.

Mannes gave a nod, satisfied that I wasn’t in immediate danger. “You collapsed during the discussion with Ingalther,” he said. “He had his men carry you here. You’ve been unconscious for a few hours.”

I glanced around the room, my mind still struggling to process everything that had happened. “What about the mission? What did Ingalther say after I…?”

Mannes waved a hand dismissively. “Ingalther wasn’t concerned about your collapse. He gave us a piece of cloth—part of the treasure, I assume—and he’s trusting us to deliver it to Garios. According to him, Garios will be arriving in Lageta tomorrow and staying there for about a month. We’ll receive our pay there.”

Silvana nodded in agreement. “Mannes thinks you collapsed because you’ve been working too hard. He’s given you two days to rest, and I’ll be taking care of your duties in the meantime.”

I frowned, still trying to piece everything together. The robotic voice I’d heard in my head, the dizziness, the collapse—it wasn’t just from overwork. But for now, I needed rest. I nodded at Mannes, agreeing to his suggestion, knowing I had to figure out what had just happened to me.