Though rendered placid at by the young urchin’s show of power, Lord LeBaron nonetheless wore a spite-filled glare on his face. His ire mingled with disgust as he watched her gorge herself on meat and wine. Occasionally, his eyes darted to the young lady seated at the other end of the table, who averted her own gaze from the gluttonous display altogether.

The orphan wiped a stray bit of gravy from her lips. “You’ll have to forgive me,” she spoke sardonically. “It isn’t often I’m presented with such a feast. I can scarcely control myself.” Her lackadaisical tone ran counter to the cold contempt that colored her features. In point of fact, she was plenty full, but found she rather relished the revulsion her ravenous consumption inspired in the nobles. No doubt they’d never seen such hunger firsthand. She was only too eager to educate them.

“What do you want?” the Lord finally said. “More food? Gold? Whatever it is, name it, and let us be done with this.”

“How kind of you,” replied the orphan. “How very noble, offering one so base and vile as myself such favor. Perhaps Hovale’s people have misrepresented you, my Lord. From my youth, I’ve heard naught but tales of your cruelty and greed.”

“Enough of this! Name it, I said!”

“I want you to eat.”

Taken aback, the Lord quirked a brow. “You want what?”

“It’s a simple request. I’ve grown so used to taking whatever food I could find and devouring it in a rush that I’ve never enjoyed a proper meal with pleasant company. So eat with me.”

Lord LeBaron turned a look of confusion upon his son’s betrothed, who returned the same bewildered stare. Their hesitation earned them the urchin’s displeasure, made clear by the great crack of her fist slamming down against the table. “I said eat!” she screamed, and the pair were quick to shove the closest food at hand into their mouths thereafter.

After watching them for a time, the Ikoras gripped the chalice she’d taken and lifted it from the table. “Now we will have a toast.” She raised it higher. “To restitution.”

The lady acquiesced immediately, but the Lord hesitated once again. His unwanted guest eyed him intently. “I can do it for you if you like,” she warned. He reacted with a vicious scowl, but nonetheless took his own chalice in hand and lifted it up.

“To restitution,” he repeated. And they drank.

The orphan all but slammed her chalice down after she’d drained it. “Fulfilling,” she said. “With that, I do believe we can conclude.”

“You’ll leave, then?” asked the Lord.

She shook her head. “You will leave.”

Once more, the Lord sprung to his feet. “I will do no such thing! This is my home!”

“A home built and maintained by the labor of less fortunate souls. The time has come to balance the scales. Or have we not just raised our cups to restitution?”

“I will not-”

His voice caught in his throat before he could finish the thought as his mind once more fell under the Ikoras’ control. With feet like lead, he stepped slowly toward the sealed door, jerking and twitching all the while.

“We could go on like this,” said the orphan as she rose to meet him. “I could walk the both of you out step by painful step if I wished. Indeed, it would be my pleasure. But I have never executed a Wonder of Mind so persistently. I could not say for certain your minds would survive the force of my will.”

She gestured at the door, and the roots that held it shut swiftly dispersed. The gathered guards came tumbling through as it suddenly swung open. The first few to regain their bearings brandished their swords, but they were given pause when they found their Lord standing between themselves and the enemy.

The invader loosened her grip, allowing the Lord to breathe freely. “Call them off,” she ordered. “Gather them up, take whatever you can carry from your stores, and leave. Otherwise, I will slaughter you all right here.”

“Stop!” wheezed Lord LeBaron. The guards hesitated, uncertain if his order was for them or for the girl, but the latter sensed that he was leaning in the right direction. She released him, and he tumbled onto all fours. He raised his palm to halt the guards before they could seek to seize the advantage.

“Stop,” he repeated between heavy breaths. Two guards moved to help him to his feet. “We’re leaving.”

“But my Lord-”

“I said we’re leaving!” Clearly incensed, he shook off the pair that had assisted him and turned his attention to his son’s betrothed. “Come, Marianne,” he bade her. “We shall go to meet Bram.”

The idea amused the orphan, who only wished she might be with them to see the look on the young Master’s face when he found out what had happened. But her scornful scowl remained firmly set as she watched the young lady and the Lord leave the chamber with their guards.

She kept her distance, but followed along to see that they followed her commands. Only once did she intervene, rushing in to smash a chest full of gold before two guards could heave it off.

“Whatever you can carry, great Lord,” she stated again. “I daresay that’s far too heavy for you.”

She allowed them no chests, no crates, no carriages or chariots, but permitted them to take horses for riding. Clearly unaccustomed to mounting the beast itself, Lord LeBaron squirmed and winced with his ride’s every step. Once more, his pain pleased the orphan, who was kind enough to see them to the gate.

“I know you’ve thoughts on returning, fair Lord,” she said as she watched them ride out. “I should hope you’ll be able to overcome the urge. Our next encounter will not end well for you.”

Whether she was truly prescient or merely making threats, the Lord could not tell. But he did not spare her his caustic glare as he was carried away from the great manor he so loved.

Hethys came to stand at the orphan’s side when the last among the evicted were barely visible on the horizon. She cackled heartily at the turn of events. “Maralekty! Maralekty!” she chanted. “Fierce and vicious maralekty! She comes into a great Lord’s home and claims it for herself alone.”

The young woman shook her head. “That’s not so.”

“Oh?” Hethys leaned closer to her. “Has the maralekt larger goals.”

She nodded. “Clean up for me. I’m going to gather the others.”

Hethys offered a shallow bow as the Ikoras stepped off toward Hovale. She didn’t wait long before turning first to the smashed open gate. With a tap from her cane, the warped wood and metal began to straighten and knit back into proper shape. It was back in perfect condition less than a minute later, and with another tap from her cane, it opened before her.