Page 49 of Ashes, Apples, & Amorous Orcs

"You should know that cutting corners only leaves ragged edges," Alma says, her voice cutting through Vaelis's bravado. "Our traditions are meant to honor stability, not underhanded tactics."

Vaelis opens her mouth to retort, a flicker of rebellion flashing in her eyes, but before she speaks, Thornak steps through the doorway. His presence is solid, unyielding—a guardian of truth itself.

"Didn’t expect this would be where I’d find you," Thornak’s voice rumbles from the depths of his chest, drawing all attention to him as he takes in the scene with piercing clarity.

Something akin to guilt flickers across Vaelis’s carefully composed features, but it quickly evaporates, replaced by cold indifference. "I did what the town expects—protected our interests."

Thornak narrows his eyes, cutting through her excuses without mercy. "Protected is not the word I'd use. Deception, however—that fits."

Alma nods, reaffirming the shop’s stance. It's as if the old walls are bolstered by integrity, repelling Vaelis's carefully constructed facade. There’s a finality here—a reckoning in its rawest form.

"The Guild will hear about this." Thornak’s statement holds the weight of an anvil, irrevocable and just. "We don't condone betrayal."

Vaelis's confidence visibly crumbles as the implications sink in deeper than any rebuke might. It's written across her pale face—the consequences of trespassing against community trust.

Yet her gaze lands on me, eyes hardening with a dangerous edge. It’s a silent warning—this isn’t over.

Draven stands silently beside me, his arm a barrier, unyielding against her scrutiny. It's a support that warms the cold marching through my veins.

"I have no intention of disrupting." My voice carries through the exchange, stronger, unwavering. "But truth has ripples—a natural, righteous balance restores what deception unravels."

Vaelis hesitates, her expression calculating. But there's no clever maneuver left to play. With a final icy glance, she turns on her heel, departing without another word.

As her footsteps recede, the lingering tension relaxes, leaving behind a promise of renewal—a chance to forge community through sincerity.

Alma joins Draven and me at the center of the room. Her approval, while subtle, restores the equilibrium unsettled since we entered. "You're welcome here, Isolde. I'm sorry we've made you feel otherwise."

The promise carried in her words feels like the dawn—a renewed beginning for the paths ahead. Justice served, quietly and with the certainty of sunrise’s light spreading across a new day.

CHAPTER 30

DRAVEN

The final night of the Harvest Festival paints the square in warm lantern light, and I find myself stationed behind Isolde's honey stand like some sort of merchant's assistant. The irony isn't lost on me—twelve years of protecting this town from the shadows, and now I'm learning to count change and wrap jars in brown paper.

"You're getting better at this." Isolde nudges my shoulder as I hand a satisfied customer their purchase. "Only dropped two coins this time."

"My hands weren't designed for delicate work." I flex my scarred fingers, watching her arrange the remaining jars with practiced efficiency. Despite losing nearly a third of her stock to Vaelis's sabotage, the stand has been busy all evening.

"Could've fooled me." She glances at the neat rows I've managed to create. "For someone who claims to be all thumbs, you've got a decent eye for display."

The compliment settles somewhere unexpected in my chest. I've spent years being valued for my ability to track, hunt, kill—never for something as simple as arranging honey jars in an appealing pattern.

Maddie appears beside our stand like a flour-dusted whirlwind, carrying a basket that smells of savory herbs and rich meat. Her grin could power the festival lanterns.

"Look at you two!" She sets the basket down with theatrical flair. "Harvest Hollow's most successful partnership. The honey-and-hunter enterprise."

"We're just selling honey, Maddie." Isolde's voice carries fond exasperation, but I catch the way her eyes crinkle at the corners.

"Just selling honey?" Maddie pulls back the cloth covering her basket, revealing golden-brown pastries that make my stomach clench with hunger. "Izzy, you were a genius to suggest using Draven's game for savory pastries. People have been devouring them faster than I can bake."

I blink, processing her words. "Isolde suggested what?"

"Oh, don't be modest." Maddie waves her hand dismissively. "When she mentioned how much venison you'd brought in from your last hunt, I immediately thought about incorporating it into festival fare. These meat pies have been my biggest seller."

Isolde shrugs, but I catch the slight flush in her cheeks. "It was just an idea. Maddie's baking is what brought it to life."

"Nonsense. It was brilliant collaboration." Maddie reaches into her apron and pulls out a leather pouch that clinks with the weight of coins. "Which brings me to this."