South Orlais. Leiria.
Demia Harviala stood before Marquis Cyril de Montfort and his eight trusted men, feeling the weight of their scolding words. The recent skirmish against the Saxon-Fanoss Union had ended in defeat, leaving Cyril's men and Baron Vomel slain on the battlefield. Demia had managed to escape with her life, but the bitter taste of failure lingered in her mouth.
The dimly lit chamber echoed with the stern voices of Cyril and his companions as they berated Demia for her perceived incompetence. Each word struck her heart like a dagger, threatening to shatter her spirit. Despite their frustration, Demia stood tall, her icy blue eyes unwavering, and her resolve unbroken.
As the chastisement continued, a figure stood silently at the back of the room, observing the scene with a mix of concern and curiosity. It was Gretel de Montfort, Cyril's daughter, a young woman known for her astute observations and sharp intellect. Her eyes flickered with empathy as she witnessed Demia's struggle against the harsh criticism.
Unable to bear the weight of their accusations any longer, Demia finally spoke, her voice calm but laced with determination. "I accept responsibility for our defeat, but it is not a failure that defines me. I will learn from this setback, adapt, and ensure our success in the battles to come."
Cyril's men exchanged skeptical glances, unsure if Demia's words were mere empty promises or a true reflection of her character. However, Gretel's gaze burned with admiration for the foreign warrior, recognizing a spark of resilience that resonated with her own spirit.
Stepping forward, Gretel interrupted the tense atmosphere. "Father, please, let us not dismiss Lady Demia's valor so easily. She has shown great courage in the face of adversity. Perhaps we should consider that the fault may lie not solely with her, but with the circumstances that surrounded her."
Cyril's brow furrowed, torn between his loyalty to his men and his daughter's plea for empathy. The chamber fell silent as his internal struggle played out on his face.
In that moment, Demia seized the opportunity to appeal to Cyril's better judgment. "Marquis de Montfort, I understand your disappointment, but I implore you to remember the purpose that brought me here. I came to aid Orlais and its people. I am determined to repay the trust you have placed in me."
Gretel's voice joined Demia's, the two girls united in their plea for understanding. "Father, Lady Demia's passion for our cause burns brightly. She may have faltered, but it is through adversity that true leaders are forged. Let us not discard her potential based on a single defeat."
Cyril's stern gaze shifted between the two girls, his features softening as he considered their words. In that moment, he saw not only the disappointment of the recent skirmish. However, he was very desperate. The self-proclaimed queen, Selena Saxon and her Saxon-Fanoss Union, had annexed many territories within this month.
Cyril took a deep breath, his mind weighed down by the recent losses suffered by his forces and the growing threat posed by the Saxon-Fanoss Union. He knew he couldn't afford to make hasty decisions, especially when the fate of South Orlais hung in the balance. His eyes shifted from Demia to his daughter, Gretel, seeing the conviction in their expressions. However...
Cyril couldn't ignore the reality of their recent defeat and the consequences it had brought upon his people. The losses were devastating, and he couldn't afford to overlook the gravity of the situation. The Saxon-Fanoss Union was a formidable force, and he needed to ensure that his decisions were made with utmost care and consideration for the safety and well-being of his subjects.
"Wait a minute, father!" A man his late twenties raised his hand. He was Cyril's eldest child, Gabriel de Montfort.
"Father, forgive my words. We need concrete plan, not mere courage to defeat Selena Saxon."
Cyril turned his attention to his eldest son, Gabriel, considering his words. Gabriel had always been a pragmatic and strategic thinker, and Cyril valued his insights. He nodded, acknowledging Gabriel's point.
"You speak wisdom, Gabriel," Cyril replied, his voice filled with a mixture of gratitude and concern. "Courage alone will not be enough to defeat Selena Saxon and her forces. We need a well-thought-out plan, one that takes into account our recent failures and the capabilities of our enemy."
Turning back to Demia and Gretel, Cyril continued, "Lady Demia, your resolve and determination are commendable, but we must approach this situation with caution. We cannot afford to underestimate our opponent. We will need a comprehensive strategy that addresses our weaknesses and exploits their vulnerabilities."
He paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in. Then, looking at each person in the room, Cyril spoke with a firm but measured tone, "We will convene a council of our most trusted advisors and commanders. Together, we will analyze the events that led to our defeat and devise a new plan of action. Lady Demia, your input will be valued during these discussions."
Gretel's eyes sparkled with hope, while Gabriel nodded in agreement. Cyril had made his decision, acknowledging the potential in Demia's character while recognizing the need for a strategic approach. The room filled with a sense of renewed purpose and determination.
"Let it be known that we will not falter in the face of adversity," Cyril declared, his voice resonating with conviction. "Our defeat will serve as a lesson, a stepping stone towards a greater victory. With careful planning, unity, and the combined strength of our forces, we shall reclaim what has been taken from us and protect our people."
Demia and Gretel exchanged a glance, their spirits lifted by Cyril's words. They knew the path ahead would be challenging, but they were ready to face it together, armed with determination, resilience, and a well-crafted plan.
As the council was assembled, the chamber filled with the hum of discussion and the rustle of maps and strategic documents. Cyril's decision marked a turning point, a shift from despair to hope, as they embarked on a new chapter in their fight against the Saxon-Fanoss Union. And in the midst of it all, Demia and Gretel found themselves united by a shared purpose and a growing bond that would shape their destinies and the fate of South Orlais.
***
After being grilled during the post-mortem, Demia sat alone in the lobby of the castle.
"Lady Demia." She turned to the voice that called her. A red haired girl in torn clothing walked with a sword as her couch.
"Malty!" Demia cried in relief and hugged her. Malty Melromarc was one of the soldiers who fought when she was defeated.
"Malty. You survived." Demia was struggling to hold her tears.
"Yes, I survived," Malty replied, returning Demia's hug. "It was a close call, but I managed to escape the battlefield. I'm sorry about what happened out there. We fought with all our might, but the enemy was just too strong."
Demia pulled away slightly, her eyes searching Malty's face. "Don't apologize, Malty. It was not your fault. We were outnumbered and outmatched. We did everything we could."
Malty nodded, her expression a mix of determination and sadness. "I know, but it still hurts to see our comrades fall and to witness our defeat. We must learn from this and come back stronger. South Orlais needs us."
Demia took a deep breath, wiping away a stray tear. "You're right, Malty. We can't dwell on the past. We have to look forward and find a way to turn this situation around. Cyril and the council are gathering to devise a new plan. We need to be ready to contribute."
Malty's eyes glimmered with a newfound determination. "Count me in, Lady Demia. I'll fight by your side until the end. Together, we'll show them what we're made of."
Demia smiled gratefully, her spirits lifted by Malty's unwavering support. "Thank you, Malty. Your loyalty and courage mean a lot to me. We will overcome this setback and restore hope to our people."
