The Plan

I don't remember falling asleep. One moment I was slipping off my boots with trembling fingers, the next the sun was already high, streaming through the tall window and warming the silk sheets tangled around my body. My limbs ached--not from strain, but from release. The constant tension that had held me upright for days, perhaps weeks, had finally snapped. I hadn't dreamed. Not once. My mind had given up, and my body had followed.

I lay there for a long while, staring at the carved ceiling and letting the scent of lavender and old wood wash over me. It felt unreal. Like I was still in some illusion, one of my own casting. But there was no magic humming under my skin. Only silence.

When I finally rose and dressed, my uncle's steward informed me I'd missed the first hour of breakfast. I didn't care. Let them wait. For once in my life, I had allowed myself to collapse.

I entered the dining hall quietly. The long table was half-cleared, but my uncle, Lord Thadeus, remained seated at the head. And across from him sat someone I had not expected.

He was enormous.

Shagrat.

I knew his name from the steward's introduction, but it barely registered. What registered was the way his presence filled the room--like a stormcloud, like a mountain given breath. He was an orc, tall and broad, with pale, ash-colored skin pulled taut over cords of muscle. His face was all sharp lines and hard ridges, framed by white hair pulled back into tight braids. His armor was light--leather shaped perfectly to his form, like it had been grown from him rather than worn.

I swallowed and sat, trying to ignore the flush rising beneath my skin.

I had never reacted to anyone like this. Not a man, not a statue, not even some foolish crush in the palace halls. I'd always been... untouched. In body, yes. And in thought.

My father had seen to that.

The Mad Emperor. That's what they called him in the streets. Even in my own mind, I couldn't separate the words anymore. He was brilliant, powerful, and utterly vile. His appetites were the stuff of legend--noble mistresses, bawdy entertainers, even girls taken from conquered lands. I'd seen too much. The silk bedsheets stained with wine and perfume. The court echoing with laughter too shrill, too practiced. The whispers. The screams.

I swore I would never become like him. Never give in to the flesh like he did. Never let my body rule me. I kept myself cloaked, guarded, untouched. Masturbation was a foreign idea to me, not because I was innocent, but because I loathed the idea of desire. Desire was weakness. Desire was how the Emperor fell.

So why now? Why did this orc's voice--the low, rich timbre of it--make something inside me tighten?

They were speaking when I entered.

"We can't hold the outer fields if the rebels come through the northern pass," Lord Thadeus said.

"They will come," Shagrat replied. His voice was gravel and steel, calm and unhurried. "They know the city's worth more than the keeps."

"I've asked for reinforcements," Thadeus continued. "If we could station twenty orcs along the causeways--"

Shagrat shook his head slowly. "You misunderstand. I don't have twenty more. The ten here are my kin. Blood-bonded. That's why they fight for so little. But to summon others, I would need approval from the Orc Council."

Thadeus grimaced. "And what would they ask in return?"

Shagrat leaned back slightly, his gaze never leaving the map spread before them. "Not just coin. Land. Rights. A seat in your new empire. And that's assuming they even listen to me. They are... wary of human causes."

Land. Of course. I felt a chill. The orcs were not mercenaries in the traditional sense. They were a sovereign people, powerful and proud. Each orc was worth fifty human soldiers in battle. You didn't hire orcs. You negotiated with them like kings.

My uncle looked at me then. "What do you think, Princess?"

I stiffened. I wasn't used to being asked.

"I think," I said slowly, "that if the rebels take the city, there won't be any land left to bargain over."

Shagrat's eyes met mine for the first time. There was something in them I couldn't read--something ancient. I had faced assassins, bandits, traitors. But this felt different.

I looked away.

The conversation drifted into logistics again--supply lines, coin shortages, the reliability of local levies--but my thoughts were elsewhere. I felt... unmoored. As if something had shifted inside me, something I'd locked away for years.

When breakfast ended, Shagrat stood and inclined his head to me. "Princess."

"My lady," Thadeus echoed.

I nodded mutely, then turned away before they could see the heat rising in my cheeks.

As I was leaving a dangerous idea began to form in my mind.

I found Kimberly in the courtyard just past noon. The late spring sun warmed the stones, but the chill in the wind whispered of trouble yet to come. She stood in the training ring, sharpening her greatsword with calm, methodical strokes. Even in repose, she looked like a goddess of war--lethal, beautiful, and unyielding.

I sank onto a bench, legs still weak from the morning's strange awakening and that unsettling encounter with the orc captain. My thoughts spun.

Kimberly glanced at me, eyes sharp. "You slept half the day."

"I needed it."

She gave a dry chuckle. "You looked dead when I checked in."

I hesitated. Then: "They'll come for us, won't they? The rebels."

Her whetstone paused. "Soon. A week, two at most. This place can't hold against a siege."

I looked around the estate--the stone walls, the tall towers, the fluttering Aichelle banners. "Then we should leave."

Kimberly shook her head. "You want to run again? We've run enough."

I met her gaze. "And you want to die in some noble last stand?"

"If it comes to it."

"I have a better plan."

That caught her attention. She set the sword down and stepped closer.

"I want to go to the Orc Council," I said. "Request an alliance."

Her expression didn't change, but her shoulders stiffened.

"In exchange for what?"

"Gold. And land. A place in the Empire once it's mine again."

Kimberly let out a low breath. "You want to offer the orcs a seat in the Empire?"

"If they fight for me."

She folded her arms. "That's bold."

"It's the only thing that might work."

A long silence stretched between us. Finally, Kimberly nodded. "I can't deny it's smart. But orcs aren't easy allies. They're crafty. Proud. Dangerous."

"I know the stories," I said. "Of raids. Villages burned. Women taken."

"They're more than stories," she said. "You were too young, but I remember. My mother told me what the old campaigns were like. Orcs from the northern ranges used to sack towns and vanish into the mountains. Kill the men, the children. Take the women. That's why we still teach our soldiers to fear them."

"But that was over two hundred years ago. And now they're here. Serving as mercenaries."

Kimberly glanced toward the keep. "It is strange. Orcs taking coin instead of blood."

"That's what convinced me. They've changed. Or at least some have. If Shagrat is any example..." I stopped myself, heat rising in my cheeks.

Kimberly raised a brow. "Shagrat?"

"The captain," I muttered.

"I saw him." She smirked. "Didn't expect him to look like that, did you?"

"No," I admitted.

She studied me for a beat. "You've really thought this through?"

"I have. If we try to stand alone, we'll die. But if I can convince the Orc Council... if I can speak to them directly--"

"They'll want more than coin," Kimberly interrupted. "And land isn't a light offer."

"I know. But I'll give it. If that's what it takes."

Kimberly finally nodded. "Then I'll support you. But be careful, Sophia. Orcs don't play by our rules. And if they see weakness, they'll use it."

I looked out toward the distant hills. "Then I'll make sure they don't."

I found him by the front gates, just beyond the shadow of the outer walls.

Shagrat stood in a half-circle with four other orcs, speaking in their language--low, guttural tones that rumbled like distant thunder. I could not make out a word, but the cadence was precise, almost ceremonial. They spoke with discipline, nodding and gesturing with economy. They did not glance my way, and I did not interrupt. Instead, I stood a few paces off, clasping my hands behind my back, willing myself to patience.

When the conversation ended, two orcs marched off down the outer path and the others faded into the courtyard. Shagrat finally turned to me. His pale eyes caught the light and held mine without hesitation.

"Princess," he said.

"Captain," I replied. "May I have a moment of your time? In private."

He studied me. Then he nodded once, his expression unreadable. "Follow me."

We walked in silence toward one of the side buildings. I recognized it from a quick tour the day before--a storehouse for weapons and spare armor. When Shagrat opened the door, the scent of oiled steel and dust hit me. Racks of spears and swords lined the stone walls. It was not built for conversation. It was a place of war.

Inside, there was barely enough space to stand comfortably apart. I moved past him and stopped near a crate of arrows, forcing myself to breathe evenly. The door shut behind us with a soft thud, and suddenly I was aware of everything. Of how close he was. Of how the room held the heat of the day. Of his scent--clean leather and something sweet and alien that I could not name. A mixture of polished steel, sweat, and something deeper, older. Not unpleasant. Not at all.

My body reacted before my mind could scold it. My skin prickled, my breath caught, and something low in my belly twisted without warning. I had read of sensations like this in books. I had ignored them. I had trained myself to feel nothing. I was not my father.

I clenched my jaw and shut the door on that thought. I would not unravel. Not here. Not now.

"I have a proposal," I said, voice calm.

Shagrat tilted his head slightly. "I assumed you would."

"I plan to travel to the Orc Council," I said. "I want to request their support in reclaiming my empire. I will offer gold, and more than that--land. A place in the empire. Permanently."

There was no flicker of surprise on his face. Only quiet calculation.

"No," he said.

The word hit harder than I expected.

"You didn't even let me finish."

"I don't need to. I know the Council. They'll never send an army for coin, not even land. Not for a human girl, fallen royalty or not."

"I don't intend to go as a supplicant," I replied. "I intend to go as a partner."

His eyes narrowed. "They don't want a partner."

"Then I'll make them want one."

Shagrat exhaled. "Even if they listen, the only sure way to gain their full support is to become the mate of a leading war-chief. And even then, there's no guarantee the others would agree. They don't vote like men do. They don't bargain the same way."

"I am aware of the stories. I know what your people are feared for," I said. "But they're here, now, working for coin. They're in our city. They are not beasts. They are a people with a future, and I intend to be part of shaping that future. If I offer them a stake in the new empire, if I speak not just as a human but as a ruler of nations, they will listen."

He looked at me for a long time. His expression didn't change, but I could feel the tension in the air between us--like the tautness of a bowstring.

"You believe you can convince them."

"I don't believe. I know."

A beat of silence.

"You're walking into a den of vipers," he said quietly.

"I've lived with worse," I replied.

Another silence passed, and then he nodded once.

"Then I'll take you."

We met in Lord Aichelle's study as the sun began to dip behind the estate walls, painting the stone in amber and red. The shutters had been drawn, the room lit by the soft glow of oil lamps. I sat at one end of the long table, Kimberly beside me. Shagrat stood across from us, arms crossed, posture straight but relaxed. Lord Aichelle paced behind his chair, one hand resting on its carved backrest, the other tugging occasionally at his beard.

I laid the plan out simply and without flourish. There was no need to dress it up. We would go to the Orc Council. I would request an audience and offer them coin, land, and a place in the rebuilding of the Empire. In return, I would ask for an army.

When I finished, the room was still for a long moment.

Lord Aichelle finally spoke. "It's bold. And perhaps... possible."

Shagrat let out a low breath, neither scoffing nor agreeing. "Unlikely," he said. "They are not swayed easily. Especially not by words."

"You said they might listen," I replied.

"I said they might. That's not the same as will."

"But if there's a chance," Kimberly said, leaning forward, "we must take it. We've exhausted nearly every other option. The rebels grow bolder every day. If we can't raise an army, we'll be cornered and crushed within weeks."

Shagrat remained silent.

I turned to Lord Aichelle. "You know I am right. You've seen what's coming. If I can win the Council's trust, we may gain not just soldiers but legitimacy. The orcs fight fiercely--and with their banners at our side, the remaining loyalist states might join us. They won't stand with a girl and a burnt city, but they might stand with a war-host."

He frowned. "I don't doubt your mind, Sophia. Nor your courage. But this... this is dangerous. The Orc Mountains are far. The road is treacherous. You don't know what they might ask of you. You don't know what they might do to you."

"I'm not a child anymore," I said. "And I won't be kept in a tower while others fight for my legacy. This Empire is mine. If I don't risk myself for it, who will?"

Kimberly placed her hand on mine. "She's right. And I'm going with her."

I turned sharply. "Kim--"

"No," she said firmly. "We go together. I won't let you face this alone."

There was a long silence. Lord Aichelle's eyes moved between the three of us--his niece, the orc captain, and the warrior princess. He looked old, in that moment. Tired. But not broken.

"Very well," he said finally. "But you go in secret. Quietly. No banners, no proclamations. If this fails, you must return here--and quickly. That much, I assume, we can count on?" He looked to Shagrat.

The orc nodded. "If the Council turns her away, they'll let her live. That much I can guarantee."

Lord Aichelle let out a slow breath and sank into his chair. "Then it's decided."

We would travel at first light, in an unmarked carriage, under plain cloaks and quiet intentions. No one would know a princess rode toward the Orc Mountains.

The meeting ended soon after. One by one, we left the study, each lost in our own thoughts. Kimberly stayed close to my side, but we did not speak.

Outside, the stars had begun to pierce the sky.

Tomorrow, everything would change.

******************************************************************************

I stood by the window for a long time after the meeting ended, watching the last tendrils of evening light bleed away from the horizon. The estate had gone quiet, the only sounds the distant creak of floorboards and the occasional soft murmur of the wind. The tension of the day still clung to me like damp cloth, heavy and inescapable.

When I finally turned away and undressed, I moved as if in a trance. My nightgown, soft and light, clung gently to my skin as I lay down on the bed. I pulled the covers over me, hoping for sleep to come quickly. But it didn't.

Instead, my thoughts betrayed me.

I tried to focus on the journey ahead--on the orc council, the politics, the danger--but my mind refused to stay there. It kept drifting back to him. Shagrat. His voice, calm and firm. The way he had looked at me, not with deference, not even with curiosity, but with the quiet assurance of someone who didn't see me as porcelain or royalty. His red eyes--steady, unfaltering--had fixed on me with something close to... challenge.

My breath caught. I turned in bed, frustrated with myself. I'd never been like this before.

Chastity had been the one virtue I could claim as wholly mine. I'd never indulged in the petty flirtations of court life, never felt curious or tempted, never even touched myself. It had always seemed indulgent, vulgar--too close to the appetite that had devoured my father. The Mad Emperor, they called him. A man who had surrendered himself to lust, to power, to decay. I had sworn--sworn--that I would never become like him.

And yet now... my body was betraying me. I felt warm. Aching.

It wasn't just how Shagrat looked, though that would have been enough. The way his armour clung to his form like it had been shaped around him, the scent of leather and something wild, something male--that alone had set something stirring in me. But it was more than that. It was how he stood. How he didn't bow. How he spoke plainly, without fear. How he didn't look at me like I was glass.

I turned onto my back and stared up at the ceiling. My breath came slower, heavier. My skin felt too tight. There was a strange pressure between my thighs--a fullness I didn't understand, but couldn't ignore. And when I shifted, when the fabric of my nightgown brushed lightly against that place, I gasped.

I don't know what made me do it.

Cautiously, almost fearfully, I let my fingers slip beneath the hem of the gown. I had seen the way girls giggled in the baths, whispering about forbidden pleasures, but I had always turned away. I didn't need such things. I was a princess. I was better than that.

But now...

My fingers grazed over skin I had never truly explored. I felt heat. Wetness. And a tightness, right at the center, as if something inside me had bloomed open while I wasn't looking.

I touched again--lightly.

My hips shifted. My breath hitched.

Automatically my other hand began fondling my breast. I began imagining things. Like the hands were not my own but belonged to a certain orc.

Then it happened so quickly I could barely believe it. A rush of sensation. A sudden pressure that broke like a wave, crashing through me. My body tensed and shook, my mouth falling open in a silent cry as something raw and primal tore through my center.

I lay there, stunned.

So, this was what they talked about. This was the thing I had turned away from in scorn. I hadn't known. I hadn't understood.

My fingers trembled, but they moved again, as if possessed by something separate from me. They were rougher this time. And when the second wave came, I sobbed into my pillow, overcome. But my hands didn't stop. I kept going.

Again. And again.

Until suddenly, clarity returned--sharp and cold.

What was I doing?

I sat up, breathless, my chest heaving. Shame rolled over me in thick, suffocating waves. I wiped my hand clean, my fingers shaking. This wasn't who I was. This wasn't the daughter of the Empire. This wasn't the girl who had sworn never to fall into the traps her father had sunk into.

What had Shagrat done to me?

No. Not him. Me. My weakness. My curiosity. My failure.

I curled into myself, pulling the covers tight, burying my face in the pillow. I told myself it was just exhaustion. Just tension. Just confusion. Tomorrow I would leave. Tomorrow I would begin the journey that would reclaim my empire.

I forced my eyes shut.

Sleep took me slowly. No dreams came.

Only silence.

******************************************************************************

Outside, the night air was still, moonlight draping the Aichelle estate in silver silence. But not all slept peacefully.

A lone figure moved among the shadows near the outer wall--a sentry in name only, cloaked in the uniform of the estate's guards, though his eyes darted with nervous precision. He made his way to the old rookery tower near the stables, a place rarely used now that magical communications had grown more common.

He knelt beside a battered pigeon coop and pulled open the rusting latch. From within, a single gray bird stirred.

With shaking fingers, he unrolled a slip of parchment and tied it to the bird's leg. The message was brief, written in cramped script.

Princess in the Aichelle Estate.

No signature. No seal. Just the truth--enough to shift the tides of war.

He released the pigeon, and it took off into the star-strewn sky, wings cutting through the silence.

It would fly east, toward the capital. Toward rebel hands.

The guard watched it vanish, then slipped back into the dark like a stain dissolving into shadow.