Chapter 14: How a Mercenary Handles Conflict (Part 2)
Regina stood before the mirror, reflecting on her recently appointed role as the Duchess.
A soft voice drew her from her thoughts. Designer Joy was gently pulling a teal-blue dress around her, smoothing the silken fabric.
“You look stunning,” Joy said. “No extra weight anywhere—you’ll carry it beautifully. One of the dresses I brought matches your size well. Until the others are ready, just wear this.”
Regina nodded. “I’ll be here for a while, right?”
“Yes. I heard Varmen isn’t very safe, so I arranged a room here, thanks to my uncle Allan.”
Joy tightened the corset and secured the dress. The silk tickled Regina’s skin—so unlike her usual leather gear. When she tried to shift away, Joy quietly steadied her.
“I’m guessing you’re sensitive to textures,” Joy observed. “It takes time to get used to, but you will.”
Regina dipped her head. She gritted her teeth, enduring both the dress and the shoes.
Joy offered another helping hand. “Would you like me to style your hair simply? I can do that.”
Regina approved. She allowed Joy—someone she barely knew—to touch her hair. It was a gentle, unfamiliar experience, like being cared for. In her rough upbringing, no one ever combed her hair.
Joy led her to the mirror. Regina studied her reflection: a mercenary dressed as a noblewoman. She almost laughed at the oddity.
“You look amazing!” Joy exclaimed. “Your husband will be delighted, I’m sure.”
Regina nearly blushed. She’d almost forgotten who she pretended to be—a noble lady in love with a duke. She swallowed the awkwardness.
After Joy left to prepare the other dresses, Regina lingered in front of the mirror, smiling to herself. She thought of her fellow guild members—they would tease her mercilessly if they could see her.
She then stepped out into the corridor, heading toward Valentin’s room. Her senses were alert—counting windows, mapping possible assassin routes. She paused, noticing his cane near the door.
“You look… different,” she started awkwardly. “Do you like the dress?”
Valentin answered simply, “I do.” His smile erased her lingering doubts.
“I’ll get used to these heels soon—maybe even run in them,” Regina joked.
“You should,” Valentin replied with a soft tone that stirred something in her.
She tested the heels with her ankle and then caught herself. “Have you eaten lunch?” she asked, noticing the time.
He shook his head. “Allan will bring it. He’s good at spotting poison.”
Regina reached for his hand. Its weathered features, full of scars, frightened her.
“Frequent attempts?” she asked quietly.
Valentin tensed. “I don’t like to think about it.”
She understood. His scars hinted at a painful past—trials of poison and survival.
Then she spoke firmly: “Let me deal with these ‘rats’ and make things easier for you.”
He nodded, acknowledging her resolve.
As they walked together, Regina asked why she’d been at his door earlier. He confessed he had heard something suspicious near their rooms—likely a prelude to an assassination attempt.
Regina stood firm. “I’m here to guard you. Nothing will surprise me.”
He gestured down the hallway. They started walking, side by side. Their steps were quiet, awkward, and new—but they belonged together in that moment.
Valentin finally spoke: “Mercenaries face many battles, right?”
Regina answered thoughtfully. “I saw war once—escorting a trade caravan through Myelken. Rebels invaded the kingdom, and I fought alongside their army.”
“Did you win?”
Regina smiled, pale in memory. “Yes. It was a job.”
She didn’t speak of the fallen comrades or the traumas—but Valentin sensed the weight behind her words.
He thought to himself, This mercenary is something more. She’s skilled, silent, and stronger than she appears.
They passed Sir Thomas down the hall. He gave Regina a cold glance. Valentin observed quietly as they neared.
Sir Thomas sneered, “Quite the outfit. Are you more interested in dresses and jewels than your mission?”
Valentin let the slight slide. But Regina’s eyes flashed with fury. She met Thomas firmly.
“If you think so, that’s your mistake.”
Her voice was calm, forceful—unmistakable.
Valentin smirked slightly. Regina had faced worse—her steel told him that. And he trusted her.
Next…
