The Laundry Gambit

She placed the book on the small desk, then knelt down, reaching under the bed where she’d stashed her operational assets. She retrieved the cool, dark shard of the veil stone, the single, oddly warm seed Pietta had given her, and the small, heavy bag containing Yarte’s seeds of Morvanium.

She was still determined to obtain the key. She had to first remove this damning proof from the barracks and conceal it in a secure location within the city. With her stuff in hand, she got up and walked to the door.

A large figure blocked the entire doorframe.

“Can I see what you’re holding, miss?”

Tetbald was the one. Behind him, was at least a dozen soldiers, their faces gloomy and prepared, their palms resting on the hilts of their swords.

Among them was Baltram.

Anna's thoughts was racing as she froze. She had let her defenses down since she was so focused with the high-level plan and Bella's discoveries. She had failed to detect them.

“It’s not very knightly to sneak up on a girl like that, Sir Tetbald. And this is a lady’s room. A little privacy would be appreciated.”

Tetbald’s expression was one of genuine regret, but his stance didn't soften. “My deepest apologies for the intrusion, Lady Anna. But my orders come directly from Vice-Captain Olomyar.” His eyes flicked down to the bag in her hand.

“He was… concerned. He ordered a security detail to ensure your safety and to, ah… verify your intentions before you left the barracks again. We need to see what is in the bag.”

So, Olomyar’s paranoia had won out. Anna mentally reviewed her options.

The Vice-Captain had made it clear after their little “test” that her actions, while appreciated, were now under scrutiny. He had given her an implicit license to defend herself against threats. She could kill them all. Maren could tear through this hallway in seconds.

But…

But then what? The trust she’d built with Destrian, the rapport with Zebril, the budding friendship with Jarce, all of it would turn to ash. She would become a fugitive, the monster Olomyar already believed her to be. Her primary objective, the key to the mines, would be lost forever.

She needed another way. A better way.

She looked from Tetbald’s determined face to the nervous guards behind him, and then down at the bag of world-ending corruption seeds she was clutching. Then, a slow deeply mortified sigh escaped her lips. She clutched the bag tighter to her chest, her cheeks blushing.

“Fine,” she said. She met Tetbald’s eyes, her own filled with a perfect mixture of indignant fury and profound embarrassment. “If you and your entire squad must pry into my personal affairs…”

She held the bag out slightly, as if ashamed to even be showing it to him.

“…it is my laundry. My unmentionables,” she said, the last word dripping with scandalized horror. “I was on my way to find a proper washbasin since the Captain is sleeping in here. Now, are you and your men officially in charge of inspecting the personal undergarments of the barracks’ honored guests, Sir Tetbald? Because if so, I must insist you file the proper requisition forms with Quartermaster Zebril in the morning.”

The effect was instantaneous.

Anna noticed that Tetbald, the seasoned soldier who had repelled charging orcs without flinching, had become a red that she had only ever seen on overripe tomatoes. He made a soundless opening and closing of his mouth. 

“I—My—We—Deepest apologies, my lady!” Tetbald finally stammered, taking a clumsy step back. He couldn't meet her eyes. “That—That will not be necessary! We will not disturb you further! Please, carry on!”

He essentially pushed his men aside as they all hurried to hide down the hallway, leaving Anna standing by herself in the doorway, grinning.

Anna's triumphant smile stayed on her lips as Tetbald and his men almost collapsed to escape down the corridor. However, their hasty, humiliated departure was cut short by a shout coming from the other end of the hall.

“What is going on here?!”

Zebril was the one. With eyes burning with a rage that made the knights' previous intimidation techniques seem like a kid's game, she charged towards them. She positioned herself between her chamber and the troops, pushing her way to the front.

Her gaze swept across the picture in a flash: Anna, standing at the doorway, cradling a suitcase to her chest, the little flush of her fake shame still visible on her cheeks. And a half-dozen armed guys looking at her, red-faced and stuttering. Already prepared by maternal instinct, Zebril's thoughts leapt to the most blatant and apparent conclusion.

Her voice dropped to a low, lethal snarl. “What on earth are you all doing to my Anna?”

Tetbald paled, his previous mortification replaced by sheer terror. “Captain Zebril, I—we—it was a misunderstanding—”

“That’s right, Zebril. It wasn’t anything like that, right, Anna?” Baltram asked with a smirk.

“I don’t want to hear it,” she hissed, taking a menacing step forward. The knights flinched back. “You will leave. Now. Or I will personally see to it that Destrian has you all on latrine duty for the next six months. Assuming he doesn’t just strip you of your ranks entirely for harassing an honored guest.”

That was all it took. The knights practically vanished, their retreat was a full-blown, terrified rout, save for Baltram, he’s still there looking at Anna. “What are you looking at?” Zebril glares.

“Nothing, really. I’ll be going.”

Zebril watched them go, her expression like granite, before turning back to Anna, the fury in her eyes instantly melting into concerned solicitude.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her eyes scanning Anna for any sign of distress. “Did they bother you?”

Anna just shook her head. “Thank you, Captain. It’s handled.”

But Zebril’s sharp, practical mind had already moved on. Her gaze fell upon the bag Anna was still clutching. “I’m glad to hear it,” she said, her brow furrowing slightly. “But my curiosity is getting the better of me. What is in that bag? I know for a fact your kind doesn’t need to bathe, so the laundry story, while effective on those idiots, doesn’t quite add up.”

A chaotic storm erupted in Anna’s mind.

“KYA!!!! ANNA!!! WE’RE GONNA BE FOUND OUT!” Maren shrieked telepathically.

Anna ignored the sword. Lying to a woman who had just offered her unconditional protectionwas a strategic error. 

It would be an insult to her intelligence.

She looked Zebril dead in the eye, a small, chilling smile playing on her lips. She opened the top of the bag just enough for the Captain to see the dull, unnatural gleam of the stones within.

“Corruption seeds,” Anna said simply.

“KYAAAAA!!! ANNA!!! YOU DON’T JUST TELL YOUR SECRET TO YOUR ENEMY!! WE’RE SO DEAD!!! SHE’S GOING TO KILL US! I’M TOO YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL TO BE MELTED DOWN FOR SCRAP METAL!!!”

Zebril’s eyes widened, her hand instinctively dropping to the hilt of her sword. Her face hardened, “Explain. Now.”

“I acquired them during the attack last night,” Anna began, her voice a calm, “One of the portal-monsters dropped the bag near the initial breach. I secured them before they could be activated or recovered by the enemy.”

She held the bag up slightly. “I was on my way to deliver these to Lady Serenya at the Temple. I forgot to bring it before. They need to be analyzed.” she shook the bag gently, the seeds clinking softly, “This is our single greatest source of intelligence.”

Zebril stared, her mind processing the layers of deception and strategy. The fear in her eyes slowly changed into something else entirely: a look of profound, grudging admiration. She let out a low whistle.

“You… you confiscated enemy assets in the middle of a battle, concealed them, and were in the process of taking them directly to the Saint for strategic analysis… and your cover story was laundry?” She shook her head, a disbelieving laugh escaping her. “You are truly one of a kind, Lady Anna.”

Her hand left her sword hilt. The danger was gone. “Go,” she said, her voice now filled with a newfound respect. “Take them to the Saint. I’ll make sure no one else bothers you on your way out.”

“But I suppose, if you also doesn’t believe me, you can be the one who give this to Lady Serenya. What do you think?”