The Ogre Strength Fairy and the Eldest 'Son'
Chapter 396 - Clairvoyance Isn’t All It’s Cracked Up To Be

Chapter 396: Chapter 396 - Clairvoyance Isn’t All It’s Cracked Up To Be

The silence stretched for what felt like eternity before being broken by a soft cough from the regional commander who had invited Qatrand to this event - who clearly felt the need to intervene before the situation could deteriorate further. Both sides could cause him problems he hadn’t wanted when requesting aid.

Dris er Valmenf’s face had been surprised then embarrassed at his miscalculation. Attempting to salvage dignity from the situation, he gave a lower bow than when he first approached.

"I... apologize for offering something you would not want. Your devotion is... admirable. Perhaps we should allow you to return to your celebration."

He stepped back, clearly eager to extract himself and his daughter from the increasingly uncomfortable spotlight. Nysoi, however, remained for just a moment longer. As her father turned away, she offered Qatrand a look that held what appeared to be genuine gratitude rather than any of the wounded pride of her patriarch.

A small nod was given back toward her... both of them understanding differently the full scope of what was happening. Likewise, the strike force members showed varied reactions. The pair of Ironclad fighters looked particularly uncomfortable with such a public emotional display - especially out of a Yecine, who were known as part of the backbone of their guild.

Others seemed genuinely moved by their leader’s conviction. The Empath especially was discretely wiping tears from her eyes over the weight of emotions both shown and held back all at once. Leysah also sat transfixed.

Something in Qatrand’s declaration had struck her with unexpected force that left her unsettled. The passionate defense of a devoted partnership resonated in ways she couldn’t quite explain. It stirred feelings and half-remembered impressions in the same sort of way that seeing or thinking about Elua er Goltbred had done.

The regional commander took the opportunity to raise his cup with diplomatic skill aplomb. His unassisted voice carried across the pavilion and made those near to him wince.

"A toast, then, to loyalty. In all its forms - on the battlefield and in the heart. May we all find the strength to honor what we hold most dear, whatever it may be."

The gathered crowd drank deep or sipped respectfully - it wasn’t as fun to toast for most without alcohol - but conversations resumed. Most discussing the political implications of such an uncompromising stance in an heir that would be one of the family elders someday.

Others debated whether such devotion was admirable or not. These were by and large those with ties to the Valmenf, looking to curry some small favor. But they were not the only ones who sought to gain a small favor.

Nysoi er Valmenf found herself approaching the curved-blade wielder. Hoping to understand better what she had just witnessed - and to discuss feelings with someone who didn’t know anything about her. Away from the clusters of political maneuvering that had resumed in earnest, Leysah sat with her cup mostly untouched.

Her eyes remained subtly fixed toward Qatrand’s direction, her squad commander had returned to fielding congratulations and questions with renewed composure. But tension in the strong shoulders spoke of emotional exhaustion beneath the diplomatic facade. She was wondering if she should make the choice to try an extricate her from it all somehow.

"Excuse me."

The voice of the young woman from the disastrous proposal made her turn and look. The Valmenf daughter stood a respectful distance away, her elaborate braids still made her look impressive but her careful court composure had lessened to something more relaxed. Without her father’s hovering presence, she seemed younger somehow.

’Less of a polished ceremonial vase and more of an actual person.’

"I hope I’m not intruding. I wanted to... well, I’m not entirely sure what I wanted, actually. You just felt like the right person."

Nysoi’s honesty was disarming. Though a little alarming out of a declared Clairvoyant.

"May I sit? My father is currently engaged in what he calls ’repositioning’ but which mostly involves arranging apologies to people while pretending he’s not."

"That sounds exhausting."

"That’s one way to describe it."

Nysoi settled onto the wood bench beside her, careful to maintain distance from the cultivating soldier. Watching the political theater play out around them, neither spoke until finally the teenager parted her lips

"I should thank you."

"Thank me? For what?"

"For not laughing with scorn. When my father made his... proposition."

Fingers worried at her blue skirts. She didn’t even like the color... didn’t like a lot of what others around her liked. Nysoi realized that was part of what drew her over here.

"I saw how you were watching it all, how you realized what was coming when he started to speak. But you didn’t laugh. Or look at me with pity. Or amusement. Like some of the others in the pavilion."

The older woman studied the girl’s profile, noting the rigid control that had popped back in over her expression despite the turmoil beneath. An instinctive protection in social circles.

"Why would I laugh at someone being put in an impossible situation?"

"Because most would find it funny. The pampered merchant’s daughter getting so publicly rejected by the war hero who has been out here making a difference in not just the wealth of others, but the survival of them."

Her voice carried bitter experience as she spoke deprecatingly of her ’good points’.

"...I’ve seen it before, at other courts and gatherings. The entertainment value of watching attempts to arrange matches fail spectacularly is second only to a duel being proposed."

"It sounds like you’ve had to endure this sort of thing before."

Leysah wasn’t sure why she was bothering to engage so much, but she figured it was partly because their commander was in a similar position. Of being someone that had been used for political reasons to engage in a marriage. The girl’s voice spoke quietly in response.

"Not quite so dramatically, but... yes. My father has been ’exploring opportunities’ for several years now. Each time, I hope that maybe it will be different. That I’ll feel... something."

"And you never do."

It wasn’t really a question and the reddish-blonde’s sharp look confirmed that the observation had hit its mark.

"How did you...? Never mind. It’s probably obvious to anyone really paying attention that I had no desire for this. No, I never do. And watching Qatrand er Yecine just now..."

She gestured helplessly toward where Qat stood, now engaged in what appeared to be a spirited discussion about their tactical formations with several martial Guild representatives.

"Watching that declaration of love like that - like it was the most natural, obvious thing in the world - made me realize I’ve been lying to myself about what was okay to look for. And for me... it’s just not... men."

Leysah’s hand tightened on her cup. The irony of this conversation, given what she knew about Qat’s true nature created an almost physical ache in her stomach. Here was this teenager, finally recognizing her own truth - while discussing someone whose entire public existence was built on deception of gender.

’So getting rejected by a woman you didn’t know was a woman finally brought her to speak on it. The world has a twisted sense of jokes sometimes, doesn’t it. Just like finding someone I want to follow under... out of unconsciously following their wife.’

"I mean... I’ve been telling myself that attraction would grow with familiarity. That partnership was more important than passion. Or that I just needed to find the right man."

Nysoi er Valmenf’s voice grew stronger, more certain.

"But watching her speak about her wife... I’ve never felt anything close to that kind of devotion toward any man. Ever."

The confession hung between them for all of a second before a hand slid to a curved blade. And the clairvoyant’s eyes widened.

"You just said ’her’. Twice."

"...Did I? Are you sure it wasn’t... the drink talking?"

Both of them knowing that there was no alcohol involved - and Leysah seeing the raw fear on the other’s face made it clear that it had been a slip and not an intentional reveal.

"Don’t do it again. And we’ll have to talk about that with my commander."

Nodding firmly, the merchant’s daughter drained her cup and fanned her face. Her Astralism had just shown her a hundred ways that their talk could have went sideways. But this was at least the 6th best result!

"A-anyway. I have felt attraction, just... not toward the people my father keeps introducing me to. Does that make me too selfish? My family needs these alliances, and I keep failing to provide them because I can’t force myself to feel something that isn’t there."

Leysah felt the weight of the moment - this young woman’s first real step toward acknowledging her own nature by seeking validation from a near-stranger all because she had nowhere else to turn. The responsibility of responding correctly felt immense. Especially when she couldn’t think of anything about how this teenager knew what no one else could see in this room.

’Even I can’t *tell*. It makes sense in my head, but my spirit just says Qatrand is a man.’

"It makes you honest with yourself. And that itself isn’t selfish, even when it’s inconvenient."

"Even when it ruins family plans? Destroys potential alliances?"

The daughter’s voice carried years of guilt and self-doubt. For all that he was, Dris er Valmenf was a good man in his way. It was not his fault that the culture of the southern coast had retained such customs. And he really was just looking for a good partnership for her that also had importance.

"My father has invested so much in these negotiations, traveled so far, spent so much money trying to secure my future..."

"Your future, or his vision of your future?"

Leysah asked gently and the bluntness of the statement made the young woman flinch. But she couldn’t deny it either. Because she’d never tried to be the one in charge of the decision or to tell him what she felt about attraction.