Chapter 331: Loose Ends

"You’d have the undead. It would protect you. If you encounter enemies, it will fight. It can carry supplies and equipment. Most importantly, you know how to reach Percvale. You can handle the guards, the towns, the people. The undead cannot."

Seren crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. She probably knew the answer to the question she was about to ask. "Why can’t you go?"

Darion gestured toward the window, toward the ruined streets below. "Look at this place. If I leave now, it’s going to fall apart. I have to organize the warriors, secure the gates, deal with the wounded and the officers. I need to establish order before I can even think about traveling. But waiting several days to bring Garren here would waste valuable time. I need him now."

He took a step closer. "Garren is the best person I have to turn a conquered territory into something manageable. He can handle the administration: assigning officers, managing supplies, organizing the surviving warriors, dealing with the civilians. But he can’t do that if he’s stuck in Percvale."

Seren was silent for a long moment. She knew the road wouldn’t be completely safe. She remembered the dangers they had already encountered: the hybrid hunters, the wild beasts, the unknown paths. But she also looked at Darion and saw the exhaustion behind his eyes. She saw the weight of the newly conquered territory resting on his shoulders. He wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.

She let out a long sigh. "Fine. I’ll leave in the morning."

Darion made sure she understood she didn’t have to rush recklessly. The undead escort would remain with her the entire way. She would reach Percvale, find Garren, explain what happened, and bring him back.

"Thank you," Darion said, his voice sincere.

Seren brushed it off, a small smirk playing on her lips. "I already knew what I signed up for when I started following you into these situations."

There was a slight pause. The reality of the situation settled over them. Tomorrow meant they would be separated for the first time since the battle began. She would be heading back into the wilderness or whatever the road of the journey offered, and he would be staying here to rule a city of people who had been trying to kill him an hour ago.

With the Escort problem solved, the heavy exhaustion of the day finally caught up with Darion. The adrenaline was long gone, replaced by a bone-deep fatigue that made his eyelids feel like lead.

He told Seren they should get some sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a long day. Seren agreed, stretching her arms with a tired groan.

But as Darion turned to leave, he stopped.

There was one more problem. Marrick.

He remembered seeing Marrick earlier, kneeling in the courtyard with his father’s corpse. Marrick was technically the new king of Harrowhold, at least according to Darion’s decision. Darion hadn’t actually spoken to him properly since everything ended. He hadn’t even assigned the boy a room. They couldn’t just walk away and pretend that situation didn’t exist.

Darion almost laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of the day. He had come to Vrethka to investigate a threat. He had infiltrated the settlement. He had discovered they planned to kill him. He had fought their entire force, killed their chief, conquered the territory. And somehow, along the way, he had ended up deciding who would rule another kingdom.

Politics had suddenly returned, and Darion realized this was no longer just a battlefield. There were consequences to everything he had done. Marrick needed to understand his position, and Darion needed to understand what the boy wanted. More importantly, Darion needed to decide how Harrowhold fit into everything that had just happened.

Just before opening the heavy wooden door of the keep, Darion paused.

The exhaustion of the day finally caught up with him. For the first time since the battle began, there was nothing immediately trying to kill him. No warriors charging. No arrows flying. No alarms sounding. No decisions that had to be made in the next five seconds.

He looked at Seren. He reflected on what they had just survived together. She had fought beside him against an entire army. She had ridden with him on an undead wolf. She had trusted him completely when he jumped from the tower and summoned the bats beneath them. And now, she was willingly agreeing to travel through dangerous territory for him, to fetch his second-in-command so he could hold his new empire together.

Tomorrow, she would leave. He would remain in Vrethka. Neither of them knew exactly how long they would be apart.

There was no dramatic confession or sudden, cheesy speech. Darion simply stepped closer. Seren looked at him, slightly confused.

Darion pulled her into a light, brief hug. It wasn’t passionate. It wasn’t dramatic. It was simply two exhausted people acknowledging that they were alive.

Seren was surprised for a moment. Her body tensed. Then, slowly, she relaxed and returned the hug. She rested her head against his shoulder for just a second.

They stayed like that for only a few seconds. Then they separated.

Both immediately became slightly awkward about it. Seren cleared her throat, adjusting her bow. Darion did the same, rubbing the back of his neck. They straightened themselves and put their usual commander-like expressions back on, hiding the brief moment of vulnerability behind the masks of a Baron and an Archer.

Darion reached for the door. He looked at Seren one last time.

Then he opened it.

"Let’s go deal with the king."

They stepped out together, leaving the quiet war room behind and returning to the political mess waiting outside.

Darion and Seren left the war room. Darion caught the attention of a nearby Vrethkan guard, ordering him to show them where the sleeping quarters were. However, before they reached the rooms, Darion intended to find Marrick. He didn’t want to postpone the conversation until morning; he wanted the new political reality solidified tonight.