Starshadow Castle, Myrkir, Emphyralis

A tall sturdy woman in a dark military style coat, pants, boots walked through the halls of the shadowy Starshadow Castle. Her long black hair was pulled into a severe bun with a few wispy bangs to soften it up. Her dark blue eyes were sharp and troubled.

Sonja Starshadow's heels clicked against the stone floor as she walked briskly. 

Early this morning she'd been handed a silver tube by an attendant. This kind of silver tube could only be opened or closed by two people. One was her, the Duchess of Starshadow, the top administrator of the continent of Myrkir. The other was Zane Darkwynde, the High Guard of Myrkir and the head of the protectorate family of Starshadow. For Zane to use this silver tube, the contents must have been explosive.

With trepidation, she’d opened the tube and read the report rolled up inside. The blood had drained from her face. She became even paler as she looked at the evidence. She’d  quickly put everything back in the tube and sealed it back up. Before she could even process the contents, she’d received a message from Chrystianna Silvermoon letting her know she was going to pick up her children.

Sonja was the second ranked member of the Dracosenati, and had been helping Chrystianna investigate the plot to kidnap her children. She’d taken a deep breath and gripped the tube. How serendipitous. This report was one of the final links in the chain. Sonja was a woman of action. She wouldn't shy away from the hard truths. She would protect her children as long as she could, however. She rubbed her slight stomach bump as she walked. She'd recently gotten pregnant again. Her other children were a grown man and two teenagers. She missed having a little one around.

She came to her oldest son's office, knocked on his door, and poked her head in. Roark didn't look very much like her or his father. He was tall and carried a lot of muscles in his chest and shoulders. His black hair was cut short, especially on the sides. Only his deep blue eyes could be said to be inherited from her. His features also carried a wheat undertone that harkened back to a Ruby ancestor she vaguely remembered meeting a few times before the Plague. 

"Mom," Roark greeted, a puzzled look on his face.

Roark was already in his thirties, and was a high-ranking officer in the Military Corps. "Take Troi and go to Silvermoon. The Grand Duchess has secretly left and wants me to send someone over. Make sure no one causes any trouble while she's gone," Sonja finally ordered.

Roark's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but otherwise his face didn't reveal much. "Is she finally bringing her children back?" he asked. He realized it probably wasn't just a simple trip. Only if she was going off-world somewhere dangerous would his mother send him to safeguard Silvermoon Keep.

"Go quickly," she said, nodding. She was trying to control her expression so that she didn’t reveal her deeper worries.

Roark nodded. He had to go by the Starshadow Military Academy to find Troi Darkwynde because he was still in school with his younger sisters Phaedra and Ophelia. Since Troi was Zane Darkwynde's only son, he'd been getting more and more real-world experience in the past few years. Helping Roark safeguard Silvermoon is a good experience if it ends up being pretty boring. He bowed to his mother and stepped into the shadows and disappeared. 

Sonja let out a breath. Roark was out of the Castle; the girls were in school. Although she had to break the news later, there was no need to worry about them now. She began to move through the Castle again.

Sonja was married to the man her mother wanted her to marry. It wasn't just a request or a hope but written as an official decree engaging them before she died. Sonja put it off as long as she could, hoping to wait until after they'd defeated the Hunters before starting a family. Before the Plague, Dragons rarely got married or started families before they were two centuries old. The Plague changed things, and the surviving Dragons felt an internal pressure to start repopulating sooner.

Still, Sonja didn't even know her husband and was hoping to find a way out of the marriage completely. However, his family started making noise about her disregarding an official degree and the wishes of their deceased elders. She had little choice. She married him.

Ludvig Shadowclaw was younger than her. He was the young, pampered son of the Shadowclaw clan, the magistrate family of one the most bustling port cities on the east coast that did a lot of sea commerce with Varmur. Her mother had worked together often with the Shadowclaw matriarch, so it wasn't exactly a shock that she thought joining their families in marriage was a politically good idea.

What Sonja didn't like was the lack of choice. Her mother unilaterally made this decision. Eventually, she accepted it. She let him live his pampered, useless, young master life, only getting along with him when she wanted a child. It worked well for both of them. He didn't like her either, but he just went along with his older sisters who always spoiled him.

When it came to his children, he genuinely seemed to care for them. Although Roark's cold personality made him more stand-offish, they still seemed to get along well. The girls adored him, and he spoiled them. She never worried about her children when it came to him. They may not have a blissful marriage, but she at least thought they had a peaceful one.

Which made the contents of the secret report even more shocking. How can her spoiled, useless, fop of a husband mastermind a plot to kidnap the children of another world leader? The report made clear that the Shadowclaw clan was not involved. His older sisters had no motives. They didn't even have many business dealings with anyone in Silubra or Silvermoon.

She didn't give him a governmental position, but let him pursue his own interests, which ended up becoming a barrister. He leveraged his position as the husband of the Duchess of Starshadow to get wealthy clients. Eventually he worked his way into a justice position. It was a quantitative leap in less than thirty years from a beginning barrister to a high-ranking justice. As long as there were no miscarriages of justice, Sonja let him have fun.

But twenty years ago, he was still just a barrister. It didn’t make sense, but the evidence was clear.