Steel Princess

Divine Smite, the Paladin's signature move.

Paladins were a special class. Compared with other classes, they faced far more restrictions. Once someone set foot on the Paladin's path, their oath and duty began to bind them. They could no longer do whatever they pleased.

But Paladins had Divine Smite!

Once Paladins reached a certain level, they had to swear an oath. That oath strengthened them, but it also restricted their actions. When personal desires clashed with lofty ideals, Paladins had to make one painful choice after another.

But Paladins had Divine Smite!

Most Paladins knew their road had no visible end. As defenders against foul and evil powers, they devoted their finite lives to the endless struggle between good and evil across the multiverse. Their efforts might mean nothing in the conflicts between Deities, and their sacrifices might not change a thing.

But Paladins had Divine Smite!

Paladins appeared to have everyone's respect, yet people often failed to understand what they did. Young, beautiful ladies did not want to marry them. The rich and powerful saw them as troublesome, stubborn nuisances and kept them at arm's length. Even the poor often took issue with Paladins because their expectations of them were not always met.

But Paladins had Divine Smite!

That signature move was a major reason so many children dreamed of becoming Paladins. It was most commoners' first impression of them. When a Paladin shouted the name of his Deity and swept his weapon through a shower of radiance, cutting down every monster and fiend, that shining image etched itself deep into the public mind.

Stylish, strong, and brainless.

Simple, brutal, devastating.

That was Divine Smite.

Aaron had seen Divine Smite before, but this was the first time he had watched it unleashed right in front of him.

It did not fit his plan. He had expected the Chaos Spawn to cause enough trouble to draw the palace's attention. Instead, this guy had shown up and killed it instantly with a single Divine Smite.

With power like that, he could probably kill plenty of elite Goblin chiefs and Clerics of evil gods in one strike.

"Are you all right?" The handsome Paladin, dressed in full plate armor but wearing no helmet, reached out and pulled Aaron up. "You're hurt. Let me heal you."

"Thanks, brother. If you hadn't come along, I might've been in real trouble." Aaron pressed a hand to the wound on his shoulder. His magic was exhausted, and using the Ring of Konrad twice had cost him enough blood to leave his face pale. His legs felt waterlogged, though fortunately they still obeyed him. "Man, you're incredible!"

"We Paladins might not be good for much, but we'll always protect those who are, even if it costs us everything." The Paladin raised a hand. Pure golden light flowed from his palm onto Aaron's wound, healing the shoulder the dagger had pierced.

Lay on Hands was an ability unique to Paladins.

Having dedicated their lives and souls to a sacred mission, Paladins possessed powerful divine energy. Each had a pool of that energy they could draw on to heal other creatures' wounds, and even cure diseases and poisoning.

The strength of Lay on Hands was directly tied to a Paladin's level. If the pool ran dry, sufficient rest would replenish it.

As the Paladin treated Aaron, the Viscount studied his face. He looked familiar.

The Paladin was genuinely handsome, almost handsome enough to rival Aaron. He had sharp brows, bright eyes, and a high-bridged nose. An air of goodness and justice came through in his every movement. The light of Lay on Hands bathed his face, while his sincere smile and attentive gaze showed nothing but kindness. His long hair was tied back in a ponytail, giving him a striking, gallant look.

"Are you... Sir Reynard?" After a few more seconds, Aaron recognized the Paladin.

Wasn't he Sir Reynard, one of the two apprentice knights under Banneret Lucian? He was twenty-one this year, and Aaron had met him a few years ago.

At Aaron's words, Reynard also found the handsome young man vaguely familiar. He studied him carefully, then asked tentatively, "Aaron?"

"That's me!" Seeing a familiar face, Aaron's eyes flickered.

This might not be bad for his plan.

"It really is you, Aaron! I almost didn't recognize you... Mentor Lucian was talking about you just yesterday." Reynard could not hide his delight. "This must be Torm's blessing. You survived. That's wonderful."

When the healing was done, the wound on Aaron's shoulder had closed, and the hollow feeling inside him had eased. Reynard helped him to his feet.

By then, Upper City guards had surrounded the Chaos Spawn's corpse with their spears. Their commanding officer ordered the soldiers to confirm that the monster was dead, then hurried over to Aaron and saluted. "My lord, Sir Reynard, I'm sorry. We failed in our duty."

"This isn't your fault. You got here within a minute of hearing that commotion. You did well." Reynard smiled and waved away the officer's apology. Then he turned his attention to Aaron. "What happened? How did you run into that monster in the alley?"

"I went to the Royal Library today..." Aaron gave his account as planned.

On his way back from the library, he had noticed that the alley was deserted and grown wary. Then he had spotted an assassin. They had fought, and he had barely managed to kill him. As he was about to investigate, the assassin's corpse had mutated into that great ball of flesh. Unable to defeat it, Aaron had fled the alley, and the monster had chased him.

"For something like this to happen in Upper City, there's more to it than meets the eye." Before the commanding officer could respond, the handsome Paladin reached his conclusion. "This was a planned assassination!"

"You, assign a few guards to escort Aaron home at once. Then report what happened here to the Lord Regent immediately."

"I'll go to Purple Dragon Keep and tell Mentor Lucian myself!"

"Yes, sir!"

Aaron returned home under the protection of the Upper City guards. Because of the incident, they even posted several soldiers near the Salian residence. Meanwhile, word that Viscount Salian had been attacked was only beginning to spread through Suzail.

Once home, Aaron did not tell his aunt or cousin about the attempt on his life.

He sat alone in his study, his face grim.

The assassination had not been a coincidence.

There really was a force lurking in Suzail, watching him for its chance to strike!

And since they had gone straight for an assassination, they genuinely wanted him dead.

That was hardly good news. Aaron leaned back against the soft chair and sank into thought.

How much did this enemy know? Why were they after him? Was it because of his failed mission? A feud involving his family, or the Deities' opposing factions? Did they think he might be a child of the god of murder, or did they know he was the Child of Chaos?

Who is my enemy? A noble in the kingdom who hates the Salians? A servant of Selûne's sister, Shar, the Lady of the Night? An outside power like the Zhentarim or the Cult of the Dragon? Zambian noble merchants targeting a promising young man of Cormyr? Or a faction within the Dark Sun Prince's church, the Lord of Murder's church, or the church of the God of Tyranny, trying to seize power?

Aaron had no answer for now. What he knew was not enough to support a sound theory.

The one thing he could be sure of was that the Queen's Blade had not come before by coincidence. Here in his home territory, in the heart of Cormyr, a hidden enemy was waiting for an opening to strike at him.

The bad news was how quickly the attack had come. His enemy was not only inside Suzail but also held a position of some standing. Otherwise, they could not have learned about him so fast.

So what should he do now?

Aaron's gaze sharpened. He rose and paced through the study, looking at the books filling the room, the swords and spears hung above the fireplace, and the mounted heads of his hunting trophies on the walls. He fell silent.

If he thought only of safety, Aaron should abandon everything he had in Cormyr at once. The attack had put the whole city on alert, and his hidden enemy had not yet had time to react and prepare. He could use that chance to flee under an assumed name to Waterdeep or Silverymoon. Baldur's Gate would do, too.

Those three cities had one major thing in common: they were all typical "free cities." As long as Aaron concealed his identity and took care to protect himself, his enemy would have a hard time finding him again.

In fact, Waterdeep and Baldur's Gate had no shortage of people like that. Some were fugitives wanted across the Realms. Some had once been powers of world-class stature. Some were heirs of fallen nations. Some were not even human, but beings that defied description.

They all lived in those cities under assumed names. So long as they caused no trouble, the cities left them alone.

Unlike in Cormyr, in those free cities, you might never know what your neighbor really was.

But would running away actually keep him safe?

At that thought, Aaron hesitated again.

Leave Cormyr? Leave my family, my house, the land where I've lived and grown up for more than a decade? Leave the country where I was born and raised, which has treated me well enough?

If I run to Waterdeep or Silverymoon, will I really be safe?

Viscount Salian wavered, pacing back and forth across the room.

Staying would certainly be dangerous. Yet a barely perceptible voice in his heart urged him to stay. To stay in Cormyr.

Aaron knew why. In his previous life, he had been Chinese.

Deep down, he could sense that he was reluctant to give up his title of Viscount.

To the powerful people of the Realms, a noble title was not worth much. Even in Cormyr, a kingdom known for its monarchy, its value was relatively limited. Aaron had neither an official post nor an actual fief.

What was an allowance of eight hundred Golden Lions a year? High-level adventurers in Baldur's Gate and Waterdeep earned tens of thousands!

But... it came back to the same thing. Aaron had been Chinese in his previous life!

Was he really going to abandon everything? His family and friends, his noble title, the connections his parents had left him, and the nine-hundred-year Salian name, all so he could run?

A sentence surfaced in Aaron's mind.

Then I'll have no roots left!

Give up everything for my own sake? Leave it all behind and run alone just to protect my future and my life? Wouldn't that make me a man without roots?

If you do this, you really will have no roots left!

Aaron Salian, wake up!

The Viscount opened the study door and stepped out. The bustle of the household greeted him. Dinner was being prepared downstairs. His aunt Mellie and two maids were busy at work, while the cook was making corn chowder.

The Salian tapestry hung on the wall beside the study. Every name on it seemed like a living person, including his father and mother. They were watching him, waiting for his decision.

The hesitation gradually faded from Aaron's eyes.

Running away won't solve anything. This is my home. This is my country!

I'll stay here. I accept this challenge!

Besides, it was not all bad news for Aaron.

Today's attack had revealed two things in his favor. First, the assassin had only been an elite Rogue, suggesting that whoever was behind this had limited resources. Second, the Upper City guards had arrived remarkably quickly, which suggested that the enemy had little influence over Cormyr's army or guard system.

Hello, you rat hiding in the shadows.

I want to play a game.

As Aaron resolved to accept the challenge, the power of Slaanesh within him grew more active.

A game with life itself at stake? Slaanesh liked that!

... A break for the game ...

A little earlier, at the royal palace in Suzail.

Beneath two tall, narrow stained-glass windows in a bright, high-ceilinged hall lay Dhuar Hall.

Cormyr's princess regent, Azoun IV's youngest daughter, known as the Steel Princess, was receiving visitors there. Her name was Alusair Obarskyr.

Dhuar Hall was lavishly furnished. Before the throne stood a long, rectangular sandalwood table draped in soft purple-and-gold satin. Thick parchment documents covered its surface, piled almost into a small mountain.

Two red-and-gold silk curtains hung before the table, hiding the person behind them. Only the vague figure of a beautiful blonde woman could be seen seated behind the throne, speaking with her guests.

There were two visitors. The first to arrive was Hendry Higginson, captain of the Queen's Blade, whom Aaron had met earlier at Kalan Inn.

He reported everything he had learned to the princess regent, including the fact that Lothair was looking for a mentor for "a Sorcerer with Extraordinary Charisma who wishes to remain anonymous."

"Your Highness, we have ample evidence that the Sorcerer with Extraordinary Charisma seeking a mentor is Aaron Salian," Hendry reported. "Lady Silverstar at the Lady of Silver's open-air shrine in Seabury has also confirmed that Aaron did receive the Lady of Silver's Divine Favor."

The beauty behind the curtain did not answer at once. The only sound was a pen moving across parchment.

More than ten seconds passed before an authoritative woman's voice came through a gap in the curtain. "Good. Very good. Extraordinary Charisma awakened later in life, an innate Sorcerer, and a native-born scion of Cormyr's nobility. Even in death, Manuel has contributed to the kingdom! By the spirits of the late kings, by Tymora, this is good news!"

"Hendry, you've done well."

"I will always be your loyal servant, Your Highness." Hendry hurried to add, "As for that earlier matter, I believe it was a false accusation."

"Whether it was false or not, investigating someone whose Extraordinary Charisma awakened later in life was the right thing to do. After all, no one knew whether he had made a pact with some evil being. Sorcerers and Warlocks can be difficult to tell apart." The authoritative voice seemed to find nothing wrong with the Queen's Blade's actions. "But since the Lady of Silver has acknowledged him, there's no need to discuss the matter again."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Keep this news from spreading. Don't let our Viscount Salian's little scheme succeed..."

"Yes... But Viscount Salian still wants a Sorcerer mentor..." Hendry could not help asking. The Queen's Blade captain had a good impression of Aaron. "Your Highness?"

"As for a magic mentor in the kingdom who can teach a Sorcerer with Extraordinary Charisma... there's only her."

"Make her his mentor. No man... could refuse."