Irene had slept a good eight hours and was now sweeping the floors after putting a nice stew over the fire. Then, the entrance door opened. It was getting dark outside, and for a second, she thought she should have locked the door until she saw the youngest of her siblings, Plinius, come in.

“Plinius?”

“Irene!” Plinius dropped the bag slung over his shoulder and went to hug her.

Irene couldn't help but smile as she hugged her brother tightly. As a [Sergeant] in the military, his visits home were few and far between. It was always a pleasant surprise when he managed to find some time off to come back to their humble house.

But then, Irene grimaced as she was violently reminded of what she had spent most of the past few days thinking about. Well, not what, but whom.

"How have you been?" Irene asked as they pulled apart, studying her brother's face. Plinius looked more mature since the last time she had seen him.

"I've been well," Plinius replied with a cocky grin spreading across his face. "My unit has been doing great, and we've been getting a lot of recognition. I think I might get that promotion to [Captain] with some luck."

Irene winced.

“Does that mean you will go on another mission soon?”

“Irene, I just got here,” Plinius sighed, “do we really have to climb this tree now?”

“Whatever,” Irene said, stepping back. “How’s your debt looking?”

“Plinius!” Anatholia just entered from the other room and gave a big hug to her little brother as Irene stared harshly at the both of them.

“The debt,” the older sister reiterated.

“I will take care of it once I get the [Captain] promotion, Irene. I don’t shit gold, alright?” Plinius said, irritated.

“Rotten roots,” Anatholia looked at the pair in disbelief, “are you two fighting already? Come on, Irene, let’s just eat something together before you go to work.”

Irene sighed, knowing Anatholia was right. They should enjoy the little time they had together. They rarely had these opportunities. She nodded and followed Anatholia into the kitchen. The aroma of a hearty stew wafted through the air.

As they sat down to eat, Plinius filled them in on some recent gossip. Fidatus was resting in his room, and Plinius had decided not to wake him.

Irene stood up and started ladling some more stew into her bowl.

“Have you heard of the Human, Plinius?” Anatholia suddenly said. “He’s trying to pay off some ex-[Soldiers] debts, apparently.”

Plinius’s frown turned dark.

“The worm? Don’t be fooled, Anatholia. They are all disgusting predators.”

Irene, who was still up, smashed the ladle inside the pot, making some of the stew splash.

“What are you doing?!” Plinius swore—some of the stew ended up on his uniform.

“Bothered by a little stew and a Human, Plinius?” Irene scowled. “What do you even know about this Human?”

“About the worm? I know much more than some soft civilian like you, Irene. We don’t need those disgusting flat-eared worms around here.”

“Why?” Irene pressed him. “What has he done that you don’t like? Helping other Elves pay off their debts?”

“And why do you think he’s doing that?” Plinius pushed his chair back and stood up. “Don’t you think he has ulterior motives? And what is this sudden interest in him? Wait, don’t tell me that…”

Irene felt a shiver go down her spine under the accusatory gaze of her brother.

“What, Plinius? What?”

“Irene, if the Three Roses want to hire him, just tell me. I’ll personally take care of him. I won’t allow that disgusting worm anywhere near my sister.”

“Fuck,” Anatholia swore, getting up with her bowl and taking a few steps back.

And she was completely right to do so.

Irene took the ladle, still dripping stew, and threw it at her brother. Perhaps she had spent too much time around the Saturnia sister, but it seemed like the best thing to do.

And indeed, she felt much better while looking at the shocked expression on Plinius’s face.

“Plinius,” Irene spoke his name the same way she used to when she had to reprimand him as a child. “Stuff your military grade in your mouth and choke on it. You do not speak to me like that. I am not one of your stupid [Corporals] or much less a [Private]. In this house, I am the [General]. And I don’t need a little kid who can’t even take care of his debt telling me that he will take care of it. Take care of your own problems, idiot.”

Now recovered from the initial shock, Plinius’s face became red.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“Have you lost your goddamn mind?! Why in the rotten World’s Tree would you throw a ladle at me?! And why are you defending a worm?!”

“You want to parrot your stupid [Soldier] friends?” Irene said coldly. “You want to act all tough and behave as if you knew anything about what you are saying? Why don’t you tell me what crimes this Human has committed? Last I heard, some [Soldiers] assaulted him and the homeless people he was helping at the Drunken Elf. Look me in the eye and tell me it wasn’t those little disgusting idiots in your unit.”

Plinius was suddenly at a loss for words.

“Thought so,” Irene said. “Bullies. And you are becoming one of them. If the Three Roses wanted to do business with the Human, Plinius, they would. And I’ll tell you more. If any [Baker] in this stupid town had to choose between the Human and any other Elf in the business, they would throw the Elf down the walls in an instant. The Human is worth ten times his weight in gold for Happy Bakery—Camilla herself said that. And yes, she’s trying to recruit him.”

“What?! Irene, I won’t allow you to work with that—”

“Out,” Irene cut him off.

“What?! I said—”

“I said out. Come back to this house when you are ready to act like an adult.”

…

Plinius was outside the house, furious, talking to Anatholia.

“You know how she is. You can’t talk to her like that—especially not about work. She raised all of us, Plinius,” Anatholia said apologetically. She felt bad for her younger brother, and she knew very well that Irene and Plinius were like water and oil at times.

“She wants to work with a worm!” Plinius couldn’t understand what was happening. Why was Irene so dead set on defending a disgusting Human?

“Come on, maybe this Human isn’t so bad,” Anatholia winced. “You don’t know, right?”

“I—I… listen, he is a Human. That’s all I need to know. Whatever. I’ll take care of this.”

“Plinius, please don’t do anything that might result in a bigger fight. You know how stubborn Irene is. She might not allow you in the house anymore.”

“I don’t care,” Plinius snarled. “I’ll take care of her safety first. You know what? I know exactly what needs to be done.”

…

Irene looked at Fidatus sleeping, mentally calculating the cost of hiring a new [Healer] and their services. They had enough money stored away since they lived frugally; at this point, the real problem was if the [Healers] could actually do anything to help her brother.

She was terrified that one day, she might wake up to him dead, bled dry from his wounds. She had had enough nightmares with those scenarios to learn to fear them; in some of the nightmares, she would bleed to death beside her brother. In others, they were all bleeding to death, Plinius and Anatholia included.

I can’t involve Joey in all of this. I can’t make him part of my life. Plinius would flip. Fidatus… I don’t know. I need to kill this before it becomes anything. It just can’t work.

…

As dawn's light spilled over the horizon, bathing Amorium in warm hues, Irene hesitantly emerged from the Three Roses. Her heart was heavy with the desire to find Joey and sever the tangled threads of their future. They could simply not be together.

In the quiet hours of the night, her thoughts weaved away an intricate tapestry of reasons, all pointing to the inevitable truth that they could not be a couple. The chasm that separated them was as big as the distance between the bottom of the World’s Tree roots and its highest branches.

She was an Elf, and he was a Human. Surely, it was as simple as that?

She would just go up to him and tell him that things did not work out. If he asked for more information, she would just tell him that she didn’t like him enough.

And was it the truth? Well, not really… but he didn’t need to know.

At this point in her life, she really didn’t need more baggage on her shoulders. Dating a Human? It was preposterous, right? Why would anyone in their right mind do anything like that?

She bit her lip as she strolled through the market, going toward the Pratus.

That was where Joey spent most of his time anyway. It probably made more sense to look for him there than at Happy Bakery.

A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she ran a hand through her hair.

Does this make any sense?

It did not.

She liked him. She wanted to spend time with him. But she was also too busy with the rest of her life to worry about him so much.

He would find someone else—a Human like him, maybe.

And who knew, he would probably leave Amorium anyway. Elves were already making his life difficult enough here.

As she approached the center of the Pratus, she realized she had no actual idea of where exactly Joey would be. She had never visited the homeless camp that everyone said was somewhere around the Pratus’s dense foliage.

Yeah. That’s how big the Pratus was. You could lose a small encampment of ex-[Soldiers] and other people down on their fortune.

As Irene's gaze wandered around the Pratus, she noticed someone standing beneath the towering statue of [Prince] Vespasianus. The man was dressed in tattered clothes, a clear sign that he was homeless.

Should I…

She wasn’t sure she should approach him. Could just about any homeless guy in the street know about Joey? Was he really that well-known?

She sighed.

She needed to end this as soon as possible. And so she gathered some courage and walked up to the man.

“Excuse me,” she said.

The man who turned to look at her was missing an eye and had unkempt hair and a beard. But besides that, she could see a steadfast soul in the only eye he had left.

“Yes?”

“Hi, I’m looking for someone who, er, visits the… camp? A Human? Joey Luciani?” Irene asked, her voice hesitant.

A deep frown creased the man's brow at the mention of that name.

“You don’t know him? By the way, I’m sorry. I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Irene,” she extended a hand to him, trying not to think about the last time this man could have bathed.

“Arminius,” the man shook her hand back and nodded.

“The Human is not in the camp at the moment. Did he cause any trouble?”

“What? No, no. He just… I just needed a word with him because… I’m a [Baker].”

“Right,” Arminius nodded and then turned to look at the statue. After a moment of awkward silence, he said, “You can probably wait for him. He should come around soon.”

“Oh…” Irene didn’t really know what to do. Going around a group of homeless people to wait for Joey did not sound safe at all.

“You can wait here,” Arminius added. “You can see if anyone walks toward the camp from here.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you. Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

Arminius waved a hand with a few fingers missing.

“No lady should wait among that crowd,” he said matter-of-factly.

After a short silence, he pointed at the statue with his middle finger. “You know him, right?”

“[Prince] Vespasianus?”

“Yeah,” Arminius scratched his beard and scowled. “Everyone is so taken with that Human… it reminds me of the story of the [Grand Prince].”

“How so?” Irene tried to make some small talk.

But when Arminius turned, he didn’t look like he was in for any small talk.

“Rotten roots, he was betrayed by a female Human, and his dying words were ‘forgive them, do not make war.’ Everyone still tells that story to children. A man, a [Prince] of this country who got betrayed because he trusted the wrong people.”

“You think he should have married an Elf instead of a Human?” Irene asked, now more curious.

“I—” The man was actually stumped by the question. “I don’t know.”

“I think that maybe he should have just trusted his kind,” Irene shrugged. “A union with a Human to guarantee a peace treaty seems pretty stupid.”

Arminius just stared at the statue and, without turning, spoke.

"You might be right. But perhaps, in the end, it was just that not enough people believed in him and what he had foreseen as the future of our country."

Those words struck a deep chord in Irene, and she quickly reconsidered what she was about to do.