Rolling around on the bed, the woman woke up with the violent need to grab a dagger from her desk.

She looked around the room, there was nothing different from before. There was no one inside, the window was closed. The only wind that softly caressed her skin and played with her hair was coming from the small crystal on the window's sill.

A single book laid on her bed, open close to the end of it already. The final chapter of that book seemed to be oddly concordant with the bloody images in her dream of just now.

Her breathing gradually calmed down as she retired her hands from her chest, and that sense of fake calm she always felt returned to her stomach.

It had been yet another nightmare.

When she walked towards the nightstand to return the dagger, she noticed a small cut on her forearm from where blood was dripping. The dagger was slightly stained crimson, too. The metal clackered slowly against the desk's hard surface, and she grabbed a white tissue to clean her cut arm.

She dropped it and readied herself to return to the sheets, when a small strand of light made a line on her hand. She looked to the window, and let a soft sigh escape her nostrils. The sun had begun to break through. Rays of pure orange cut pieces of clouds to rain down and devour the darkness, making her irises shine with that same rusty color.

Valta sniffed slightly, taking the hair out of her face. Her senses slowly began to fully return, making the small flames of everyone else's presence appear on her mind. Only two pieces of information were made clear to her from those auras:

Firstly, that Thom's room was as empty as it had been for the past month and a little more. And second, that Miel was standing in front of her door.

She didn't pay any mind to this, however. Her feet guided her towards the counter, where she made and poured herself a cup of coffee. She drank the first one, then the second, took with herself a third, and went to the wardrobe.

Without making a sound, she extended her clothes on the bed as she finished yet another cup of coffee, and changed herself in the silence of dawn. To finish, she buttoned up the robe around her neck, and buckled her belt around her waist.

The sound of bouncing metal accompanied her towards the door, where she cleared her throat, and turned from the pommel.

The face of a tired and mangled general appeared on the other side. His golden hair was tied up in a messy bun and his face was paler than usual, deep purple marks below his eyes that lacked any life. A weary smile was the greeting she received, and the one that the general got in return was an indifferent nod.

Miel entered the room and sat on the desk where the keys always rested, waiting for Valta to pour him a cup. She did it without being asked or without consultation, it was a standard thing for her to do whenever anybody entered her room.

Surprisingly, as soon as the cup got to Miel's trembling fingers, the one to talk first was the captain.

"You've used Greed." The woman muttered. "Against whom?"

"..."

Miel didn't answer. He simply drank slowly, sipping the soft coffee into his mouth.

"Why come this early?"

Her cold voice announced to the general that the woman was, at least, slightly annoyed at his presence and silence. But, since he had been the one to barge in without offering an explanation, it was only to be expected. Miel didn't answer yet, however, as if he was still making up an answer that could satisfy her.

Valta didn't have to wait much longer, since the general placed the cup on the desk, and opened his mouth.

"You really... Fell so quickly in love with that man." Miel muttered, the back of his head softly leaning against the wall as he placed his hands between his thighs.

"..." Valta didn't reply.

"Was it a month? That surely is quick... I haven't fallen in love with anything in my thirty-three years of life, Valta." Miel chuckled lowly, impeded by his decrepit look.

"This sounds like you're here to tell me he's dead." Valta showed her complicated emotions in an infinitly small frown. This was unusual enough on her that Miel could understand how deeply concerned she was.

"No, no. He's... All things considered, fine. I'm sure that you've already heard that the baron of Saltbide has been brutally murdered in his sleep. The news arrived quick. About fifteen days after the assassination, we already knew of it. I'm sure mister Arburson made a fantastic job."

"..."

Valta lowered her shoulders and laid her hands on the counter. It seemed like she had received some kind of relief after hearing those words. However, just before she could calm herself down completely, Miel's eyes turned sharp and he leaned on his back. A macabre smile was displayed on his face

"Valta, what do you think of the count of Berlera?" Miel closed his eyes and awaited a response.

"... A great man." She replied, dry and concise.

Miel smiled as if she expected her answer to be just that. His chest filled up slowly and his nose squeezed out his breath, his eyes opening at the same time with the weight of someone who awakes from a warm summer nap. He blinked slightly and then, his chin signaled Valta.

"Certainly." He whispered. "He gives his servants their fair share, answers to the king, and allows the poor to enjoy what the rich have too much of. He has been known throughout Kulkus for his... Rather charitable magnanimity, if you want to see it that way. He's one of the few nobles allowing the king to share the land amongst the commoners, after all. A big contributor to the movement." His eyes never left Valta's shape as he spoke.

"Yes." She nodded, giving off the impressions that Miel's information was common knowledge that he did not need to repeat. "Has something happen—"

"I want him dead." Miel smiled.

Valta blinked once. She incorporated herself and looked through the window before looking back at Miel's face. There was a glint like a shred of vain hope in his gaze that impeded the woman from looking away once again. What was that mumbling she had heard right now? Had she correctly understood what Miel said?

"Is this an order from the king?"

"This is a request of mine..."

"I cannot do such a thing. It doesn't make any sense."

"Why does it have to make sense? Governments are complicated and they end up an excuse to hoard wealth and more wealth! Wouldn't it be the best for the kingdom to finally fall out of place and embrace the peace that it gives to be free from the shackles of kingdoms and nobles and what-not or other?!"

Miel forced his stance upwards, his feet falling onto the ground as he tumbled to Valta's close space. The woman leaned back in disgust, but Miel didn't stop on his rambling.

"Thom has been useful enough. He left a note saying it was the dark elves' work that Argrand was killed, and the murder of Piston was written off as something planned out by the Empire. What would you think that would happen if a count was then murdered and somebody left a small trace of Agaria's green flags? Wouldn't that just me magnific?"

"Are you trying to start an uproar?"

"The mighty kingdom of Kulkus, in the middle of six sovereign countries and has never fallen to their armies because of the great Clawgold's help! It profits from commerce taxes and the high, sky-high taxes exerted on citizens. How ironic and how fun it would be if, not from the outside and forced by their enemies, Kulkus would fall from inside and collapse like the brittle pile of shit that it is!"

Miel slammed his hands on the counter, finally showing how badly the lack of sleep had affected him. The general would not talk like this even in worse situations, but now he was speaking like a dam had broken and his thoughts were the water that filtered outside like a wave. Valta was taken aback and could only observe as the disheveled general pierced her soul deeply with his intense stare.

"And after you're done with the count... I want you to do something greater, something that will shake this country completely." Miel giggled slightly and removed his hands from the counter.

"I said I won't—"

"I want you to kill Duke Panal!" Miel yelled in a whisper much closer to Valta's red ears.

"..." She refrained from speaking until the man's face was already far from her own, not before taking her time to process what Miel bad been trying to say. "Panal's your uncle."

"But he's a duke. And he is the closest. There would be no chance in a million years that anyone could kill that man in the streets— but you, you and your gross amount of talent and that passion for your fucking bow, I need that!" He pressed his finger on her chest, which hurt her a bit nonetheless.

"What if I say I don't want to?" Valta showed for the first time a deep and clear frown, and crossed both her arms to face off against Miel. The weakened state of the general did not scare her in the slightest.

"Well then..." Miel twisted his mouth and clicked his tongue. It seemed fake, however, as the next thing he showed was a smile. "Should I begin by killing Thom Arburson, or should I leave him for last?"

The frown on the woman's cold face turned to shreds, becoming instead a preoccupied, confused expression.