“I understand your position, but I want to shove their expectations in their face. I’m going in the imperial-style slacks, vest, and jacket. Larida will be coming along, she can be in the traditional skirt and top.”
The large Troll sighs. “If I let this go, will you wear the dress of stars to the dinner?” I nod.
“Then do as you will.”
My ‘guard’ sneers at me and gestures for me to say something before she leaves.
“Would you have an ear decoration I could borrow? I hear those are a very ‘Troll’ thing to do.” I ask.
She nods. “I have a few options, tusk caps as well. Larida knows where they are.” Her voice is clipped and then finishes her trip out of my room.
“Why would you challenge her on something so trivial?” Larida growls.
“You and Maude told me that humans are petty if someone wears the same clothes to multiple events. I only have three fancy outfits!”
“And yet you refused to let her have more clothes made for you. She wants to dote on you, would it kill you to let her?”
“Kill, no. Is it actively hurting me? Yes! I have a condition where if it doesn’t feel real, it can physically hurt me. My prior family environment was oppressive and detrimental. Now I come here, find out that not only am I some kind of Troll princess, but the mother that lost her child says she will love the squatter in her daughter’s body unconditionally?” I shot of agony strikes behind my eyes and my legs buckle. I grit my teeth. “This, this is what happens. I’m not trying to offend her, or you; I’m just trying to manage the pain and come to terms with it gradually.”
“Grabbing your head wasn’t just a gesture of frustration?”
I shake my head.
“Is there anything we can do to help?”
“Heh, Goddess help me. You trust me enough to believe me just like that? If I hadn’t seen how earnest you are over the last weeks, I would have never believed you. I like that both of you care, and her overbearing attention feels motherly and oddly comforting to a point. But, if I look like a need to escape for a minute, please let me.”
She nods but doesn’t say anything else before leaving me to start changing and getting ready for the damned ladies tea I was volunteered for. Stupid politics.
I leave the fancy frock coat as I head up to the High Shaman’s suite searching for ornaments.
“Miss Spirehawk, I have been hired to manage your hair for today and tomorrow. How would you like your hair styled today?”
“I’ll be wearing this with a jacket, so I was thinking of an up-do of some kind? Do you know Troll hairstyles?”
“I know many hairstyles from several Troll nations. When Sky Trolls with long hair pull it up, they often use the tendency of many braids to create braid arrangements instead of stylized hair itself. I am fond of the arrangement styles with a close crop side hair. I think forming braid fins would look particular striking.”
“Okay, sir. Maybe a loopy central fin on top?”
About an hour later, after re-braiding and then styling and cutting my hair, the man brushes me off and leads me to a body-length mirror. A near perfect rendition of a mohawk with a double undercut greets me in the mirror. He has also pulled the braids at the border where he close-cut my hair to reinforce that border and weave it back into the braids that trail down the back of my head. The look is striking with the reddish purple of my hair.
“You have done an amazing job, sir, thank you.” I look hot. Snug vest, clean lines, and hair that’s on point? Good night. I would definitely flirt with someone that looked this good.
I start getting nervous while waiting for Larida to show me some ear ornaments, unwilling to search my adoptive mother’s suite.
“I picked out some clip and chain combos for your ears, with matching metal caps for your tusks.” She hands me a jewelry box then walks over to the stylist and hands the man a few coins. I can’t see the color or shape, but the man seems pleased.
The box has two styles of clasps in two metals, and one style of caps in two metals. I pick the silver to match my clothes, and opt for the ear tip cap with a top clip with a short chain and a bottom, lobe clip with a chain that hangs just below my lobe, but has rings hanging from the chain from top to bottom, anchored in the chain itself. I don’t like how the top chain hangs, so I wrap one loop around the blade of my ear and then clip it to the top again.
“I have never seen someone wear it like that, but you might be on to something. Can I try something?” I nod.
I stop paying attention as soon as she touches my ear. It sends a pulse of pleasure down my spine and I blush like a makeup kit. When I can focus enough to look at what she did, the long hanging chain of smaller loops now has two lobes as the upper chain that I wrapped around my ear is now looped around my ear and that one segment of chain. An excellent change, but I could have done without the intimate ear touching.
The tea is being hosted at the Duke’s mansion, on some garden terrace some kilometer from the house. I don’t mind the walk, and taking a carriage from the front door to the terrace seemed ridiculous. The walk is nice and with the leaves changing color in the fall air, it is quite beautiful as well. The benefits of being a Troll show themselves yet again, but they wouldn’t have had to if Larida hadn’t stolen and hidden my coat for ‘aesthetic benefits’. I scoff, because I am a skinny, wiry girl, not some combatant with a burly physique.
As soon as I’m within sight distance of the women in fancy dresses seated in couches in an enclosed gazebo, I feel like they are all staring at me. Larida laughs. “This is why I stole your jacket. I wanted to see how flustered and unsettled we could make them.”
“Come now, being exotic isn’t that big a draw.”
“You are likely more fit than most of their suitors. The young human nobles I have seen so far don’t have much to offer.”
I introduce myself and give a slight bow to the young ladies. They introduce themselves in turn and Larida posts up behind me, next to one of the other female guards. This is apparently a ladies only engagement. A smattering of tea and cakes are served and after a brief period of snacking, questioning eyes focus on me.
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
“I heard that you came from the South? Is there a Troll settlement in the Marches? Or were you on some trip?” A petite brunette, wearing far too many frills, asks while trying to spear me with her eyes.
“There is now. I bought land several hours outside of Marcrest. Some locals are now living on my land, so we’re discussing what that means with Duke Rivayne.”
“I was told that Trolls don’t individually own land, but their clans do?” A sandy blond asks. They have remarkably informed questions. Are they just that in tune with politics and current events? Or are they being pressured by their parents to ask?
“I don’t remember anything before a year and a half ago. I didn’t know Troll customs, just what the folk from Marcrest told me. They let me buy an old land claim that borders a lair claim I staked, so according to the Empire, I own land in the Marches. According to my clan’s Shaman, I can claim the land for my clan.”
“In the Empire, you have to have the land area and the people sworn to you and acceptance from a Duke or the Emperor.” The piercing brunette states.
“I have been made aware of that recently. It is being discussed by people with more sway than I have.”
“There is precedent for foreigners cementing their peerage with marriage to an Imperial noble. The duchy would greatly benefit from such an arrangement,” a woman with porcelain skin and nearly orange hair offers.
“Is that a proposition, lady Pierce?” I put a hand to my chest in fake alarm.
“Would you be so inclined, Spirehawk?” She raises an eyebrow.
Deep laugh rumbles up from my belly. “Are same-sex arrangements common in the Empire?”
“No,” she replies, “But it is not unheard of. And there is every reason to believe that it would be preferable to a fumbling, bumbling noble boy.”
I continue to chuckle at her naked attempt to express her interest.
“Are there many baronies in this duchy?” I look around to the dozen young nobles.
“There are three, but close relatives are considered nobles. My mother is an eastern Baron’s sister,” the brunette adds. “In fact, only ladies Pierce and Carmichael are daughters of Barons directly.” The two daughters glare at her.
“I bet you’re a hit at parties.”
“She has a habit of causing a scene when she’s bored. It’s solid entertainment for a few minutes.” Pierce huffs at the woman, then gives me a sweet smile. She’s pretty, but I don’t have any interest in getting involved in any of this.
I start poking around with Melody’s questions about traveling through the region, asking after trade for both her and my own interests. I remember the man Archibald who assessed my resources, and set another note to message him once I head back to my land.
By the time the tea is done, I can tell who has ambition and who is just attending because they are expected to. I respect that, as it’s probably tied to some freedom they enjoy at home. I can’t imagine that kind of gathering is common, and if it is, it’s got to be more interesting when a foreigner isn’t around. Right?
On our walk back to our rooms, Larida gets chatty. “I think the mouthy brunette was mad that you seemed interested in Pierce—like that kind of thing happens with other suitors. I have no doubt you will be getting an invite to the Pierce estate in the future. Find something else to be obligated to if you’re not interested. And on behalf of Sky Trolls in general, please don’t be interested.”
“Oh? Meddling already?” I snicker.
“Oh come on. You’re a budding Shaman and you’re stunning. If you try to match with any other race, you’d have to do the magic yourself, as we aren’t biologically compatible with Elves or Humans without magic involved.”
“Oh, so we’re compatible with Halvyrs and Gnomes then?” I joke.
“Halvyrs and Giants actually. There’s a reason, but hell if I know why. That said, shamanism breeds well, so the gifted are encouraged to have at least one Troll offspring. Any human-related match is discouraged as that’s part of what started the second extinction of Man and all that.”
“Shame, that. I have an Elf girlfriend, but the Halvyr that wants in my pants is being an asshole.”
“Oh ho? When I come south, will I be meeting said Halvyr asshole?” The interest in Larida’s eyes is apparent.
“Since when are you coming south?” Not that I’d protest, I like Larida.
“Since you were identified as a Spirehawk and a potential Shaman. The latter gets you a guard, being a Spirehawk you get me. Plus, I have wanderlust and Vitara knows I would beg to see your lands. You’ll likely get an Ancient or two once they find out you have adventure down there.”
“Adventure? I have plains and hills. A small resource cave and a cute little grotto. No big. Practically tame. I bet it’s going to be smooth sailing for years.” I put my hands behind my head and smile, pretending I have a handle on things.
I trip on the ground and shuffle to regain my footing as I stare at my message in horror.
“Hah, that’s the look of someone that invoked a jinx. What did you do?”
Yes?
I trip again and stumble up the steps and fall on the stoop.
“Zhantsa, how bad is it?” Larida asks as she helps me to my feet.
“My resource cave turned into a Dungeon. I’m the Administrator,” I whisper shout.
“Shit. Go find your mom and tell her that. I’ll get the horses ready.”
“What?” I say much more loudly.
“Zhantsa, this is a big deal. We need to go. Find Vitara and tell her.” As Larida sprints down the lane, her motivation infects me to rush up to my suite.
Vitara is there waiting for me before summoning a bubble of water around us.
“Tell me.”
“I got a notice that denizens of the Umbra have settled in my resource cave, then less than a minute later, I got notice of it forming a Dungeon with me as Administrator.”
“I’ll be right back down. Change into riding clothes. We’re going on a hunt.” Kitara pulls back the bubble and shoves me into my room before disappearing behind the door.
Panic rises in me as the urgent tone of both Larida and Kitara replay in my head. What have I invited?! I remember Alaris snickering at me when I renamed the lair, but she also said that Umbral Bears weren’t known in this part of the Universe.
Autopilot miraculously dresses me with no face-planting while I consider the magnitude of this simple change of status in a region that I own. Who knew land ownership would be so . . . exciting? Sure, let’s go with that. Exciting, woooo!
Kitara looks down at me several times during our walk out of the city, as though she were contemplating picking me up so that we could move more quickly. If we’d have stabled our horses at the Duke’s stables I could have ridden while you walked quickly, mother. Not that I say something so disrespectful, but I can be a petulant brat in my head all I want to.
I see Larida standing next to Freckles, both look ready to go, but the animal behind the guard Troll is what gives me pause: a gigantic monitor lizard with a head more like a rhinoceros. Vitara pets the beast fondly before hopping onto the massive back with a mere blanket to keep her from chafing against what looks to be rugged hide.
After the city is out of sight, the Ancient Troll pulls off the road and dismounts. She casts her privacy bubble and activates a wind talisman that she says doubles our protection against scrying and eves dropping. Once I figure out what scrying is, perhaps I’ll be just as concerned.
“Vitara, seriously, we should keep moving! Even at our fastest pace, the humans will have a chance at the core before we do!” She turns on the Shaman and pleas for action.
The massive Troll palms her head and swipes the hair out of her face. “Calm, Larida. My daughter has at least rudimentary control of the dungeon, or so she says. It is important for us to see what we can do now, before opportunities are lost.”
I sit on Freckles, still somewhat panicked at our quick egress while the two more experienced women argue on the usefulness of prudence.
“Why did we run!? The System said I have control, why did we have to flee so quickly?!”
“Zhantsa! Do not yell at the High Shaman!”
“You think she’s never had an angry, confused daughter before?” Larida has her hands at my collar in an instant snarling in my face. Feeling threatened, I summon a crossbow and shove it into her chest.
“CHILDREN!” Vitara picks us up like stuffed animals and separates us. “the situation is not as dire as it would seem. With Zhantsa’s administration, we are not as limited. Now sit!”
The force of her presence has Larida and me plopping our buts on naked grasslands with perfectly good mounts to sit on. Such is her presence, it’s hard to think of anything but what she has to say.
“As Administrator, there are some things you can do remotely, and others that you have to be present to manage. Let us manage what we can do now, shall we?”