Chapter 25: The Merchant’s “Gift”

The supply outpost appeared like a miracle in the wasteland.

We’d been traveling for two days straight, and the landscape had gradually shifted from forest to barren tundra. The temperature dropped with each mile—and even with Beatrice’s enchanted coat I could feel the cold creeping in.

The outpost was small, just a handful of buildings clustered around a main trading post. A wooden sign swung in the wind, advertising supplies and lodging.

Valeria studied it with obvious suspicion.

“We’re stopping?”

“We need supplies. Water, food, maybe some cold-weather gear.”

She didn’t look happy about it—probably because it meant other people would be around. Other people who might look at me. I’d learned that was a cardinal sin in Valeria’s worldview.

The trading post interior was warm and surprisingly well-stocked. An older woman behind the counter looked up when we entered, her eyes lighting with recognition.

“Ah, you must be Rian. Beatrice sent word you’d be passing through.”

Of course she did. The tracking spell wasn’t enough, apparently. She needed eyes on the ground too.

“That’s me.”

The woman smiled and pulled out a package from beneath the counter.

“She said to give you this. On the house.”

I took the package, which was surprisingly heavy for its size. Valeria moved closer, her presence looming over my shoulder like an overprotective shadow.

“What is it?”

“Don’t know. Beatrice doesn’t exactly explain herself to merchants like me.”

Fair enough. That sounded like Beatrice.

We purchased the supplies we needed and headed back to the carriage. The driver was resting—giving us some privacy to examine whatever Beatrice had sent.

I set the package down on my bedroll and opened it carefully. Inside was nothing but a note that read: “Check the inner pocket of your coat, darling.”

Valeria leaned in, reading over my shoulder.

“What pocket?”

Good question. I ran my hands along the coat’s lining, feeling for any irregularities. My fingers caught on something near the left side—a seam that felt different from the others.

I pressed it and felt something shift. A hidden compartment, expertly concealed within the enchanted fabric.

Inside were two items. A crystal vial filled with iridescent liquid that seemed to swirl with its own internal light, and a sealed letter with my name written in Beatrice’s elegant handwriting.

The potion bottle had a label attached. I read it out loud without thinking.

“For Rian only. If anyone else drinks this, they die.”

There was a little heart drawn next to the warning.

Valeria stiffened beside me.

“That’s…”

“Incredibly disturbing? Yeah.”

I set the potion aside carefully and broke the seal on the letter. The paper was expensive—the kind Beatrice used for important contracts. I unfolded it and started reading.

My stomach dropped with each line.

Dearest Rian,

By now you’ve reached the midpoint of your journey. I imagine you’re exhausted, cold, and probably questioning every life choice that led you to this moment. You always get that distant look in your eyes when you’re overwhelmed—the one where you stare at nothing and your left hand taps against your thigh three times.

How did she know that? I didn’t even realize I did that.

The potion is a high-grade restorative. You’ll need it when you reach the Titan’s Heart. The activation sequence releases concentrated magical energy that will drain any non-mage in the vicinity. Drink it before entering the core chamber.

Okay, that was actually useful tactical information.

I’ve been watching you for longer than you realize, Rian. The way you organize your desk, always putting the important documents on the right side. How you prefer tea over coffee but never admit it because you think it makes you seem less professional. The small scar on your left wrist from when you were twelve and tried to climb that tree behind your childhood home.

I touched my wrist reflexively. The scar was barely visible, faded with time. How the hell did she know about that?

You’re probably wondering how I know these things. The answer is simple—I pay attention. Every moment, every detail, every small piece of you that others overlook. I collect them like treasures because that’s what they are to me. You are what you are to me.

My hands were shaking now. This wasn’t a tactical briefing. This was a confession wrapped in surveillance.

Stay safe, my favorite investment. I’ll be tracking your every move.

With deepest affection,

Beatrice

P.S. The coat looks better on you than I imagined. I spent three weeks perfecting the shoulders.

I read it twice, hoping I’d somehow misunderstood. But no—this was definitely a stalker’s diary entry disguised as mission intel.

“Let me see that.”

Valeria’s voice was dangerously quiet.

I should have said no. Should have folded the letter and hidden it away. But my brain was still processing the implications and my reflexes were too slow.

She snatched it from my hands and read it in silence.

I watched her expression shift from curiosity to rage in real-time.

Her hands crumpled the paper—and small wisps of smoke began rising from her clenched fists.

“That merchant bitch.”

Oh no.

“Valeria, it’s just a letter—”

“Just a letter? She’s practically confessing her obsession with you!”

The irony of that statement coming from Valeria of all people was not lost on me.

The paper in her hands burst into flames.

“Valeria, stop!”

She wasn’t listening. Her eyes had gone unfocused—that dangerous look she got right before committing murder. The letter was already ash, but now she was reaching for the potion bottle.

“If I can’t destroy her, I’ll destroy her gifts.”

I moved without thinking. Pure survival instinct taking over.

I grabbed her wrists before her fingers could close around the vial, using my body weight to force her hands away. She was stronger than me—way stronger—but I had surprise on my side.

We stumbled backward and I managed to pin her wrists above her head, using a pressure point technique I’d learned from watching the guild’s combat training. My knee braced against her hip, keeping her lower body immobilized.

“Calm down. Now.”

My voice came out harder than intended, commanding in a way I rarely used.

Valeria froze beneath me.

Her eyes widened, pupils dilating as she stared up at me. The rage drained from her expression, replaced by something else entirely. Something that made my instincts scream danger for completely different reasons.

Her face flushed deep red.

“Rian…”

The way she said my name made my skin prickle. Breathy and reverent and way too pleased with this situation.

“Are you going to destroy the potion?”

She shook her head, the movement small and submissive.

“No. I won’t.”

I didn’t release her immediately. Couldn’t trust that she wouldn’t lunge for it the second I let go.

“Promise me. Actually promise.”

“I promise.”

Her voice was barely a whisper. She wasn’t even trying to break free from my grip—just lying there with that same expression of blissful submission.

This was somehow worse than the rage.

I released her wrists and stepped back quickly, putting distance between us.

Valeria sat up slowly, touching her wrists where I’d held them. Her fingers traced the skin like she was memorizing the sensation.

“You should do that more often.”

“Absolutely not.”

She smiled—and it was the most genuine expression I’d seen from her since this nightmare journey began.

“You’re so strong when you want to be.”

I wasn’t strong. I’d just gotten lucky with the pressure points and momentum. But explaining that would probably ruin whatever delusion was keeping her calm right now.

I picked up the potion carefully, tucking it back into the hidden pocket along with the ashes of Beatrice’s letter.

“We need to establish some ground rules for the rest of this trip.”

Valeria tilted her head, still smiling in that unsettling way.

“What kind of rules?”

“First, no burning things out of jealousy. Second, no killing people unless they’re actively trying to kill us. Third—”

“I’ll agree to your terms on one condition.”

Of course there was a condition.

“What?”

She stood up, closing the distance between us with deliberate slowness.

“When this mission is over, you have dinner with me. Just us. No guild, no interruptions.”

That sounded like a terrible idea. Actually, it sounded like the worst idea possible. But she was staring at me with expectation and barely contained violence—and I really needed her cooperation for the rest of this journey.

“Fine. One dinner.”

Her smile widened into something triumphant.

“Then I accept your rules.”

I didn’t believe for a second she’d actually follow them, but at least we had a verbal agreement. That was something.

The rest of the evening passed in tense silence. Valeria seemed content now, humming softly to herself while she maintained her equipment. I tried not to think about the letter, about Beatrice’s obsessive attention to detail, about the fact that apparently everyone in my life was keeping creepy tabs on me.

When I finally lay down to sleep, the potion bottle pressed against my ribs through the coat’s hidden pocket.

For Rian only. If anyone else drinks this, they die.

With a heart.

I closed my eyes and wondered if the Northern Wastelands would be less terrifying than the people supposedly protecting me.