Demund opened his eyes.

Rhyne was sleeping next to him while Riley was sprawled across the mattress on the floor. They’d come to Rhyne’s house after the party incident. Demund held in a groan, wondering what his life would become now that things were weird between him and Edan.

The clothes Edan had lent him were still with him. Keeping them would be out of the question. He’d need to return them as soon as possible.

While they’d slept pretty late into the night, he felt refreshed, unlike his friends who were knocked out. Though stepping into his current body felt terribly heavy. He’d tried Rhyne’s VR gear, and the difference between his body and the avatar that he’d used was similar to the difference between his other body and his current one. Incredibly dull and laggy. Even while raising an arm he could feel the difference.

Though he wasn’t sleepy. He dreaded checking his phone, but he couldn’t put it off forever. Cracking his neck, he reached for his device and turned it on.

Demund let out a small sigh. No messages from Edan. Or anyone for that matter. Things seemed to be peaceful for now.

He looked around, wondering what to do. He was feeling a little hungry but wasn’t sure what Rhyne’s family would think of him if he went to the kitchen to eat by himself. It was the first time he’d slept over, after all.

“Hey. Hey!”

Demund shook Rhyne, who refused to budge. But after shaking him further, Rhyne opened an eye, wrinkling every facial muscle he had while he groaned.

“What?” he muttered. “Is it lunch?”

“It’s past eight,” Demund told him.

“Eight?”

Rhyne pulled the blankets over himself, burying his face into his pillow.

“Er, aren’t you guys going to eat breakfast?” Demund asked.

Rhyne mumbled something inaudible.

“What?”

“Eat anything,” Rhyne grumbled. Three seconds later, he had begun snoring quietly.

Demund decided not to ask him further. Going to the side of the bed, he pulled on his prosthetic leg and fastened it, standing up.

Stepping across Riley, he carefully pried the door open and tip-toed out, softly closing it behind him. Going to the kitchen alone made him feel like a thief, but Rhyne had given him his permission. And he doubted his friends’ parents would be the type of people to scold him for wanting breakfast.

Clack. Clack.

He froze when he heard a noise coming from the kitchen.

Should I turn back? he thought.

But his stomach told him otherwise. If he simply explained things to whoever was present, they would allow him to join, right? Though he knew it would be awkward, he wanted to eat something tasty after spending a week eating cold, hard meat. The food in the city had been good, but it had been too brief.

Wondering who it was, he peeked his head out of the corner.

Rhyne’s older sister was staring back at him with a spoon halfway into her mouth, dressed in loose, bright pajamas with cats on them. One of her eyebrows rose questioningly.

Demund quickly pulled his head back, pressing his back against the wall. He hadn’t interacted with Rhyne’s sister much.

“What! I didn’t hear that Rhyne had friends over,” she exclaimed. “You are his friend, right?”

Clearing his throat, Demund stepped out with a smile.

“Er, pleased to meet you,” Demund told her.

“Yeah, you’re, erm, the guy who comes over to study,” she said. “Demand?”

“Demund,” Demund corrected.

“Oh yeah. Sorry.”

“No problem.”

“Where’s Rhyne?” she asked while chewing. “Still sleeping, isn’t he?”

“Yep.”

“And you?”

“I—er, for breakfast?”

“Sorry my brother’s so insensitive,” she said, pulling the chair next to her out. “Here, take a seat. What’s with the armor—oh.”

“Yep.”

“Eesh. I mean, sorry. Oh. my. Goodness.”

She was like Rhyne when flustered. If Demund recalled correctly, she was two years older than them—a senior.

“No problem,” Demund told her. “It’s not a big deal.”

She rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. “Er, anyway, take a seat. What do you want? Cereal? Toast?”

“Cereal is good,” Demund said.

“Anything else?”

“Well—”

“Don’t hold back. Gah, I’m going to hit Rhyne for this. Rhyne!”

“They’re sleeping. Riley’s there too.”

“Oh, Riley. Whoops. Anyway, do bacon and eggs work for you?”

“Of course.”

She smiled. “I’m pretty good at cooking,” she said, pulling back her pajamas.

Soon, the air was filled with the sound of sizzling. In the meantime, Demund ate his cereal, watching Rhyne’s sister cook. He realized that he had never asked for her name since he’d become Rhyne’s friend. He’d never talked about her.

“Tah-dah. Nice and crispy,” she said, placing the steaming plate in front of him.

“Won’t you have any?”

“Eating too much makes me fat,” she said.

“It’s good,” Demund commented after taking a bite. “Do you, er, go to the same school as us?”

“Yes?”

“I’m surprised I didn’t see you much.”

“We do stay on different floors.”

“True.”

Demund hadn’t seen much of Jothan’s sister, Alina, either. Nor much of the first years. When he’d been in the normal class, things had felt freer and more diverse, but in the special class, everything felt so cut-off. The buildings were separate, so that was probably why.

“Rhyne never really talks about you,” Demund said.

“Eh, why would he?” she replied. “That would be weird.”

“I guess.”

It seemed too late to ask her her name. So Demund simply ate while Rhyne’s sister lazily scrolled through her phone, sitting next to him as if waiting for something. Her legs were on her chair, and she sat like she didn’t care who was looking.

“Done eating?” she asked when he had emptied his plate.

Had she been waiting?

“Yeah. Thanks for the meal. I’ll do the dishes,” Demund offered.

“Just toss them in the sink,” she told him. “I’ll make Rhyne do them later. What are you going to do now?”

“I guess study,” Demund said.

“You can use Rhyne’s computer if you want to.”

“It’s alright.”

“Rhyne!” she yelled, prancing up from her chair and heading to the bedroom. Demund wobbled after her and was shocked when she swung the door open, going to Rhyne and jumping over Riley.

“Rhyne. The sun’s up,” she declared, pulling the blankets off of him.

“Go away,” Rhyne groaned, covering his eyes with his hands as his sister pulled the curtains open. “Jen, what are you doing?”

So that was her name, Demund thought.

“Stop being lazy,” she snorted. “Hey, can your friend use your computer?”

“Computer? Yeah, go ahead,” Rhyne muttered. “My blanket.”

After his blanket was returned, he covered himself again. His sister grinned, patting Rhyne’s body.

“You heard him,” she told Demund. “Oh, sorry Riley.”

Riley waved a hand below his blanket.

“Thanks for the meal, Jen,” Demund said.

She frowned. “Jen?”

Riley suddenly uncovered his face and looked at him with narrowed eyes. He tilted his head in confusion.

“Did I say something wrong?” Demund asked.

“Well, I mean—call me Jen if you want,” she said.

Demund felt his cheeks heat up. “Isn’t your name Jen?”

“It’s Jenesy,” she said.

He knew he shouldn’t have called her by her name. Demund scratched his cheek with a nod.

“Er—so, Jenesy?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks?”

“You’re welcome,” she chuckled. Then she left the room.

“Gah, close the door!” Rhyne complained. “Stupid woman annoying me during the weekend.”

Demund closed the door. He heard Riley let out a laugh below him.

“What?”

“You didn’t know her name?” he said, shaking his head.

“I don’t think I ever asked.”

“True.”

“Are you awake now?”

“Meh.”

His friends returned to sleep, and Demund quietly headed to Rhyne’s desk to sit down. There wasn’t much to do, and he didn’t play games aside from the ones he played infrequently with his friends.

It had been a peaceful morning. Maybe too peaceful. Then again, his mornings in the other world would be peaceful as well starting from now. No longer would he do meaningless tasks with the soldiers, but he’d be able to enjoy some rest with the other Nieut family members in the city of Enthimer.

Though he wondered if that was really alright. According to Pillen, he’d done something outrageous. Going to the city was more of an exile than a reward.

He felt sick. He could still recall the burning smells of flesh and metal…

The other world had always felt like a dream when he woke up, but lately, it took more and more time for the memories of the other world to grow dull. Perhaps it was because he’d reached a new level of power, but it was beginning to affect the waking world—and not in a good way. Clearer memories meant more ease in recreating the skills he’d learned there, but it also meant that all of the bad things would stand out to him more clearly.

It would affect his psyche. Or had already affected him.

Beastmen. They were beastmen. Not human.

He took a deep breath in, suppressing the memories that threatened to make him heave. His other self had no problems handling it, but his current body didn’t feel as liberated. He circulated. It made him feel slightly better.

Right. Beastmen didn’t exist in this world. He didn’t need to worry about them.

He felt slightly bad thinking in such a way, but the feeling of the other world was already fading behind him. He was wide-awake now, stuck in reality.

Demund looked at his hands and closed his eyes. Elemental magic had been simple enough, but the others were difficult to recreate. While the increasing lingering of the other world made him feel uncomfortable, it would mean that he would have more clarity when reproducing the magic that he knew. The skills that he’d learned—they would become a reality.

They weren’t perfect. Not yet. Now that he didn’t have to partake in training or invading, he would use the excess time to his advantage.

He was beginning to feel good about himself when he remembered the events that had occurred the night before. Edan was a popular guy, and many had been at his house. It was given that rumors would spread, and he wasn’t some stranger nobody cared about. Many people knew him now since he’d come out on television. He’d never paid much attention to the social turbulence in his school, but he guessed that it would become more of a pain now.

Enariss was gone too.

He looked over at Riley and Rhyne. He was thankful that they had saved him. Come to think of it, they had been the first ones to approach him, and how they’d managed to remain friends, he didn’t know. Most likely because they had all started from the normal class. The two of them were similar to him and Jothan. They’d had their problems in middle school, just like them.

Stolen story; please report.

And they’d allowed him to stay with them. No…allow was incorrect. They’d invited him.

Maybe it was for his grades or his above-average athleticism. Probably for his grades as they’d begun a study group. But they were his close friends now, and they cared about him. They didn’t care about Edan or what other people thought.

With Enariss gone, their friendship seemed to stand out to him more clearly. He hated himself for not listening to them and going with Edan even though he’d felt something off about that group. He’d allowed himself to grow used to their manners.

Like how he’d grown used to the soldiers.

He hadn’t felt much when the soldiers had slaughtered the beastmen. He’d listened to their justification that the beastmen were invaders and enemies to be rid of. But he knew the truth now.

He had seen innocents die and had done nothing about it. All the power in the world—and he still had failed miserably.

Demund gripped his fist, breathing out slowly to suppress the lump that threatened to come out of his throat.

Mana was a scary thing. He’d willed himself not to feel and consequently had not. He’d wanted to be unfazed by anything and had become just that. Now that he was back in his weak, vulnerable self, he could see—no, feel how dangerously close he’d come to not feeling at all.

Maybe it wasn’t a bad thing. But he’d been doing the same thing Edan had been doing—perhaps worse. And that made him feel sick.

Perhaps not so much from his own parents, but Jothan and his family had taught him generosity and kindness. He’d taken it for granted. It was why he so readily accepted other people’s kindness. But it wasn’t all about accepting, was it? It was also about giving. He’d learned that from the Jakhar Kishaks. Nothing was free, and things had to be exchanged from both sides for a relationship to remain healthy. Both for humans and animals.

Sure, he’d given his friends some guidance in studying. But he felt as if it wasn’t enough.

When his friends woke up, they headed outside to grab lunch. Rhyne paid for both of them saying that his mom had told him to buy them food.

Demund came to a realization. It had always been like this. Always receiving, never giving enough. But the world wasn’t as kind as he’d believed it to be.

“Hey, guys. Want to try learning magic?”

His friends looked up from their food.

“Magic?”

“You mean superpowers? You can’t learn that.”

“You’ve seen what I could do.”

“But that’s part of your power, isn’t it?”

They knew about his dream world, but he’d never gone much into the details.

Demund smiled. He’d wanted Enariss to be the first, but he was more than willing to teach his friends now.

“What if I told you that I also had the power to teach?”

It wasn’t completely true. But he was confident that he could.

Rhyne beamed. “You mean that I can shoot fire out of my hands?”

“Can I be a human torch?” Riley grinned.

Demund smiled.

“Then it’s decided.”

It would make him a little less special, but it would be selfish of him to keep everything for himself.

“You two will be my first students.”

⤙ ◯ ⤚

Shaden looked back one last time. There was no one there to send him off.

Fort Avagal was currently occupied by the soldiers from Enthimer, there to protect it while its Commander and subordinates were accomplishing the Winter Trials. It was a simulation of how things would unfold when war did occur between the two countries—which Shaden now knew would be unlikely.

He could have traveled alone, but the Commander had insisted that he take someone with him. Benavon would take her place. She had argued against it.

“You allowed the beastmen to escape,” the Commander had stated. It hadn’t been directed towards Shaden, nor did it sound malicious. It was a fact, and Nicar was responsible for it.

Because of him.

He still wasn’t sure what to feel about her, but the look of pain that had overcome her face had incited some sympathy in him. She had looked devastated, hearing it from her father. Pillen had said that she had worked very hard to get to where she was now, and her mission had resulted in a failure.

She hadn’t talked at all during their way to Fort Avagal. It had been a short trip with Shaden carrying them through the air. But he did find it amusing that her body was tensing all the way. Perhaps she had a fear of heights.

When he’d first arrived at the fortress with Nicar, the general there had been surprised to see them but had given them horses to travel to Enthimer with. After Nicar handed some documents over to the general, they were ready to set out. It would become dark in a couple of hours, but Nicar had wanted to depart right away.

“The faster we get you to Enthimer, the faster I can return,” she’d said.

Why she wanted to return to that wretched environment was a mystery to him. But because he didn’t like the fortress anyway, they set out.

He would finally be freed from the accursed place. He liked the customs of the Jakhar Kishaks, but the Nieuts were people that rubbed him the wrong way. Even if it was their country that had forced such a life upon them, he couldn’t like them very much.

Though he understood them a little now. Looking at how every room was occupied by the soldiers from Enthimer, he could see why stealing hadn’t been much of a problem. Those at the fortress didn’t have many personal belongings, and any valuables that would hinder them would have to be left behind. Things would frequently be lost while traveling as well. Shaden had kept tabs on all of his valuables, but it hadn’t been once when he’d dropped something in the snow while repacking his bag.

Still, he didn’t like it. Their mentality, their way of living—it rubbed him the wrong way.

The way the soldiers had treated him had been on the lighter side. What they did to each other would be far, far worse. He’d seen how they’d beat those who weren’t as skilled or were disobedient.

He hadn’t thought much of it because he’d also been beaten by Lytha. But while he had healing magic, they did not.

Well, it was all behind him now.

They continued through the dark after the sun had set. They both had detection magic, after all. Nicar seemed almost feverish, pushing the horses on even though their breaths became erratic, resting only the minimal amount.

“The horses can rest when we arrive,” she told him when he asked. “I know how far they can run.”

She was right. Being connected to the horses, Shaden knew that Nicar only rested when necessary. Still, he knew that the horses were suffering.

“When I return, I will be alone,” she reasoned when he raised his concerns. “We should arrive by morning so I can depart right away.”

“You won’t get an opportunity to rest like this in the future,” he said.

“Rest?”

She scoffed at him. “I failed my duty, and you expect me to rest?”

So they continued. Without her knowing, he cast magic on the horses to ease them of their burden, so in reality, they began to move at a leisurely pace. Without worrying about the horses, he was enjoying the scenery of increasing forests when he sensed Nicar’s eyes on him.

“What?” he demanded.

“You mastered our family’s abilities,” she said. “Why did you decide to stay?”

Was she accusing him, or curious? He wasn’t able to tell.

“To learn,” he replied.

“Learn?”

She sounded doubtful. “Your actions say otherwise.”

Shaden breathed out deeply through his nose so that mist would form before him. Heck, it didn’t matter. He could answer honestly. He didn’t care about what they thought anymore.

“I didn’t want to give up. But you know what? It wasn’t worth fighting for.”

If she knew about the truth about their duty, what would she think? The Commander had told him not to tell his children, but he had the feeling that he wouldn’t care very much even if he did.

Resentment. That was what motivated them.

Nicar turned her eyes away. After a while, Shaden asked her a question.

“Why do you hate the beastmen so much?”

Her head didn’t turn towards him, but he heard her sigh. A soft, quiet sigh.

“When we were still young, Pillen and I used to live in a village closer to Fort Avagal,” she began. “My grandfather was still alive then. My older brothers were studying in the capital, but we were still young. It was a nice village. I had a friend named Mina. Pillen had a crush on her.”

Shaden was surprised that she was willing to talk—she never did talk much. After a short pause, she continued.

“When he passed away, my father and his siblings had to decide who would become the next family head, so we moved to Enthimer. We still exchanged letters with Mina. She wanted to marry a general when she grew up. Pillen was hard-working back then. It’s no wonder why he’s the best marksman out of all of us.”

She made a quiet sound—something in between a laugh and a groan.

“We heard a report that there had been an attack. My father wanted to take us with him since the area was his responsibility now. What do you think we saw there?”

Shaden didn’t reply. He remembered her words from before.

“It wasn’t something children should see. I heard the soldiers reporting that it had been the beastmen who had done it. I saw the claw marks. Pillen found Mina. He hadn’t told me that he’d learned how to use locators.”

She turned to him. “They are cruel. Crueler than anything. Show them mercy, and they will come back with their fangs bared.”

“I—I don’t think all of them would be like that,” Shaden managed to say. “I have a friend who is a beastman.”

She snorted. “You said that the beastmen who you saved were dead. Why is that? Did they rip each other apart?”

Shaden opened his mouth. But nothing came out.

They didn’t talk much after that.

⤙ ◯ ⤚

“Nicar, darling! My sweet little girl!”

Shaden had not expected Nicar’s mother to be a kind, expressive woman given how the rest of the Nieuts had acted. She was shorter than Nicar, but her arms pulled Nicar into her chest easily, and she rubbed her daughter’s head while Nicar attempted to pry herself off. But her mother’s strength was not to be underestimated.

“Mother. I must leave,” she said, trying to escape. “The Winter Trials are still in progress.”

“You haven’t visited in two years!” she yelled, her caressing turning into an audible smack. “If you’re back here, it must mean that you’ve been relieved of your duty. How fortunate.”

“It is not fortunate,” Nicar grumbled, managing to escape. “Father is waiting for me.”

“Oh, that cold stone-faced man. He won’t care if you stay a day or two.”

“Mother—”

“You will stay, darling.”

“You know I will return during next year’s summer.”

“Just a day. I won’t take no as an answer.”

“I must go.”

“It has been so lonely,” she began, tears glistening at the corner of her eyes. “Why did all of my children have to go to that wretched place? Your face is darker now, and I can see that your work has been cruel to your beauty. Where is my sweet child? Oh, my little girl—”

“Mother.”

“You traveled through the night, didn’t you? Fatigue is a dangerous foe. Rest, and return tomorrow morning.”

As much as Nicar tried to resist, her mother clung onto her body, refusing to let go. Eventually, after what seemed like half an hour of arguing, Nicar gave in, looking much more tired. Shaden could see where she had gotten her stubbornness from.

“And you must be the boy heir!” the lady said, turning to Shaden. “I’ve heard a few things about you. Did my husband and children treat you well?”

“So-so,” Shaden replied.

She nodded. “Well then, it is time for breakfast. Come in, now, take a warm bath. Are your toes and fingers okay?”

“Yes?”

“Good, good. Now, hurry in.”

The atmosphere felt incredibly different. The city was as peaceful it could be; soldiers slowly patrolled the streets along with excited children. It reminded him of Danark except that there weren’t any huge walls nor were the buildings as tall or closely positioned to each other. Nor were there streetlights. Compared to elven or Melern’s cities, or even Anor’s, it felt rural. There had been a lack of magical apparatuses in Fort Avagal. He now realized that it was the same for Enthimer as well.

Was the country of Bughast not as developed as its neighbors? He found it strange because he’d seen products from Bughast in Danark, like pearls.

“That’s what the rich and lazy do,” Nicar replied during breakfast when he asked. “Soldiers have no need for convenience.”

“Come on now, Nicar. No need to feed yourself with lies,” her mother rebutted, filling her daughter’s plate with steaming food. “You wanted to go west.”

“But it’s true. Convenience makes one slow.”

“The real reason would be that it’s because no one cares about this part of the land,” Nicar’s mother sighed. “Some fear that if the area becomes developed, the beastmen will become greedy. Foolish, I think. I would love to have some appliances.”

“You do. Father bought you a water heater.”

“Getting crystals to fuel it is incredibly expensive,” the lady complained. “One crystal could feed a family of five for a week!”

“And power the heater for a month. Mother, as a wife of a commander, you should spend more on yourself.”

“How could I do such a thing when my family is not with me?” she smiled sadly. “Maybe if you stayed, I would be more than delighted to.”

Nicar scowled. “You know I cannot.”

“Oh, but you can. If you become married—”

“Stop. We promised not to.”

Her mother looked at her disappointingly. So instead, she turned her attention to Shaden while heaping a generous portion of meat on his plate.

“Have you come to rest?” she asked. “It must have been very difficult to learn about the family technique. I pity you for being sent here during the Winter Trials.”

“I mastered it,” Shaden replied nonchalantly. “There wasn’t anything else for me to learn. But yes, I don’t think I like the Winter Trials.”

“You have? Nicar, has he?”

She didn’t seem to believe him. Maybe he’d come across as too cocky.

“He has.”

“But Pillen took two years to grasp it.”

“I know.”

Her mother looked at him again, now with more curiosity. “When I married into this family, my husband told me about an ancient pact that had been made with a stranger from far away. I remember many years ago when the young lady from Skotos visited us. But she took all year, I think.”

“I’m not your average kid,” Shaden shrugged. “Nicar, why don’t you tell her about how I saved you and everyone else from an avalanche?”

“You did? Nicar, did you almost die?”

Nicar glared at Shaden wordlessly. But she pursed her lips and replied.

“No. Shaden made it easier for us to escape, however.”

“Did you? Now I see that we have an esteemed guest among us!”

Am I not the heir that your family is supposed to serve? Shaden wanted to say. But living within the two families, it hadn’t been the master-servant dynamic he’d been expecting. Perhaps it was because he was still only an heir. Or maybe it had always been that way. They hadn’t seemed that submissive to his grandfather.

But they had still kneeled before him during his birthday. Shaden wished he knew more about his family’s customs, but he hadn’t grown up in Skotos. Lytha also had glossed over it.

Well, he didn’t dislike the lady. She was much more comfortable to be around than the stone-faced people. But it was never easy to be around strangers as he’d learned, and he’d need time to adjust again.

So much moving around. He wondered when he would be done with his training.

Just then, the door burst open.

A boy tumbled in, screaming. Behind him was another boy with a stick in his hand. On the tip of the stick was a caterpillar. He was also screaming.

“Grandma!” the first boy cried, almost falling over.

The second (and larger) boy froze when he saw them eating. Quickly, he hid the stick behind his back.

“Enson! What is that thing behind your back?”

“N-nothing.”

“He’s bullying me!” the first boy yelled, gripping onto the old lady’s dress. “He’s trying to make me eat it.”

“Rasso is lying!”

The boy named Enson shook his head furiously. “He was the one who wanted to see it.”

“No!” Rasso argued. He stuck his tongue out.

“Both of you, stop. Enson, bring me the stick.”

Enson looked hesitant.

“Now.”

Enson brought it, and the old lady took it, throwing it out of the window. The boy looked quite sad when she did but didn’t argue.

“You cannot misbehave before guests,” she scolded, slapping both of them once on their bottoms. “It would be a disgrace to your fathers.”

“Yes, Grandma,” they both replied. That was when they spotted Nicar, and their eyes lit up again.

“It’s Nicar!”

“Auntie!”

“Is Dad here too?”

“Is my dad here?”

Forgetting about what their grandmother had said, they rushed over to Nicar and grabbed onto her sides since they were very short. Before Nicar could answer, words began to blabber out from their mouths.

“Did you catch any bears?”

“Did you catch beastmen?”

“Did anyone die?”

“Where’s Pillen?”

“Who’s he?” Enson whispered though Shaden could clearly hear him.

“Children.”

They both shut up at the same time when their grandmother spoke, though their smiles couldn’t be suppressed. They looked happy to see Nicar.

“Enson. Rasso. You’ve grown very much,” she smiled. “Where are your mothers?”

“Killing a pig,” Enson replied.

“Why aren’t you learning from them?”

“Well, we were then he chased me with the worm,” Rasso complained.

“I did not!” Enson disagreed.

“Go back to them,” Nicar said.

“Yes, go back to your mothers,” her mother agreed. “Or would you rather learn letters all morning?”

The two didn’t seem to like that, so they hastily left the room, closing it with a thud. Nicar seemed unfazed, but her mother let out a deep sigh, shaking her head slowly.

“They’re good boys,” she began, “but sometimes I think that they lack the interactions they need. If only one of you were here.”

“Pillen will return within a year,” Nicar said.

“That is good.”

“Where is Beila? She can lead her brothers.”

“She is the one who needs someone to lead her the most. You would be perfect for her.”

“When I was her age, I was training among the boys.”

“Yes, you were,” her mother muttered. “Your father should have never allowed it.”

Nicar looked hurt by it, and she placed her fork down on the table, getting up. “I will get some rest,” she said, turning around. “Which room is empty?”

“Your room has been untouched,” her mother told her.

“Shaden. You will stay here now. If I see you again, it will be during the summer.”

“You’re not going to eat lunch or dinner?” he asked.

“Are you not tired?”

“Well, a little.”

“In case I don’t see you, I pray you will treat my family well,” she said. “And…thank you for sparing my men.”

Was she talking about the avalanche, or not killing anyone when they’d tried to kill him? Either way, he shrugged.

“I always wanted to ask you what you thought of me,” he said. “Was I a brat?”

She looked mildly amused by the question.

“You were a terrible soldier,” she answered. “But I didn’t dislike you.”

She left, and that was the last time he saw her until summer came.