Surprisingly, it would be the first time he was properly escorted without having to travel alone. Maybe it was cheating, but his grandfather had looked pleased about it. You do what you want to do, he’d told him while touching the top of his head lightly. The rest of his family had already returned to Danark on an airship, courtesy of the prince. It was time to leave.

It was obvious that no great ceremony would be held for him; still, the carriage he rode in was of the finest quality, covered with silver and pulled by two mighty black horses. Though small, the inside was comfortable to sit and sleep in, and going along the hard road, he couldn’t feel the slightest tremble. The coachman was none other than a Reaper, quietly dispatched so that his trip would be the most pleasant one without any inconveniences.

Shaden stared at the ceiling. Truthfully, he was still alone. The Reaper was someone unknown, and he had no one else to talk to. The only form of entertainment was the lush countryside with occasional villages along with the food he ate in them. His guide provided him with the finest rooms and meals, explaining to him everything he was curious about.

The man could feel depressed, Shaden thought. A member of the Reaper Squadron, babysitting for a child. Though he showed no discontent on his face, only looking like he was perfectly at peace. So Shaden did ask once.

“You must be tired,” Shaden commented while they ate together. He’d insisted that his guide sit across from him and share the table instead of him simply standing there like a servant. Shaden wasn’t used to that. It was uncomfortable, to say the least.

“Not at all,” his guide smiled. “I am enjoying myself.”

“Really? Isn’t it boring?”

“I like the mundane. It’s quiet and peaceful. Everyone dreams of driving leisurely across the country.”

After days of talking, Shaden discovered that the man was going on vacation; after dropping Shaden off, he would relax in the Rvuvick Empire for a while until he returned. The way he said ‘relax’ was a little off, but he seemed quite cheerful. And happy.

And Shaden was pretty happy too. Being treated like this wasn’t bad at all. It took some getting used to, but the life of a noble was fun. His guide was a pleasant man who treated him respectfully without a single frown—unlike the other Reapers he’d met. Well, they all had their separate duties, didn’t they?

“I would be thankful if you didn’t speak much about me,” the man said when they were at the last town before arrival. “I would like to travel in peace.”

“Of course,” Shaden nodded. “But it seems like we’re already being watched.”

He’d noticed from town to town the subtle looks that they’d gotten. It wasn’t anything special; they were new faces in a foreign country. But Shaden had learned a bit of spying from Shpiel, and being able to sense everything around him, had caught someone scribbling notes and sending them elsewhere through a bird at the back of the building. Spies were everywhere. Were they from the Veurbois? Or others? He hadn’t cared to check.

“The families of the Empire love their discreet activities,” the guide chuckled. “One of the many reasons why this place is so much fun.”

Shaden blinked. “Fun?”

“Quite so. Isn’t Melern too at peace? The King is infallible and the Guardian's—though I have never seen him—guidance keeps sovereignty absolute. There are no hungry mouths nor an abundance of crime. Any heinous acts are quickly flushed out. But here—the darkness flourishes. There is a kind of intoxication in which men can fulfill their darkest pleasures.”

The guide tapped on his glass and smiled. “A place where human greed thrives. That is the Empire.”

“You make it sound evil,” Shaden said.

“Evil? Nay, it’s a trait all human nations share. But it is most concentrated here,” the guide told him. “I would say it is Melern that is unusually perfect. But such is possible due to the sacrifices of the prince and princesses.”

Shaden guessed that he hadn’t heard of the news. Then again, no one knew but the King and the prince. Maybe the crown prince as well.

“Do you believe that the princes and princesses will guide you in the afterlife?” Shaden asked.

“It is pleasant to think about,” the man answered. And that was the end of it.

They left early in the morning to arrive before evening. The roads became cleaner and neater, and more travelers could be seen along them. The roadside towns became more and more clustered, and soon larger buildings were making themselves known as well as lamplights and lively shops that beckoned to travelers.

“We’re not halfway there,” the guide told him when he asked. “Here is the edge.”

While not as clustered as Raconel, the city was expansive, some houses lying side-by-side with farms and plantations. But as they traveled closer to the heart of the city, the fields faded away, being replaced with statues, fountains, and other forms of artful architecture, some of which made Shaden clear his throat. In both worlds, people seemed to love their expressions of the human physique. But as they were enjoying the sights that the city had to offer, they were abruptly stopped by an orderly group of men on horses, all with swords strapped to their sides and some with long, sharp banners in their hands. All eyes were on them, and Shaden could see the residents around them whispering amongst themselves.

“We have come to escort the young lord,” their leader announced, setting foot on the ground. “Allow us to confirm his visage.”

The guide looked back at Shaden through the window. Shaden nodded, getting out of the door and coming out of the carriage. The leading man immediately dropped to one knee, lowering his head.

“I greet the young lord,” he said firmly. “Please don’t be alarmed. My master has commanded me to bring you safely to the estate.”

“Lead us there,” Shaden said.

It was like a small procession that was held for him, and they rode through the streets with banners raised high over their heads. No one dared to block their path, not even a street dog. He’d thought that they were pretty close to the estate since the men had come, but it was over half an hour before they arrived. And when they did arrive, he was met with the greatest reception he’d ever received.

Soldiers lined the road beyond the inner gate, all with swords in their hands. Some thunderous voice heralded his arrival, and it was as if time itself had frozen. Only when the carriage passed by them did they raise their swords in double unison. Past the soldiers were the servants and maids. Past them were richly-dressed men and women, and at the end of it all, right before the large manor were the silver-haired nobles themselves, the ladies with their hands held respectfully before them like the servants, and the men upright and tall.

When Shaden stepped out of the carriage, none other than Esel Veurbois, the head of the family, came forward to take his hand on one knee and kiss it. It was a sign of submission and respect, something Shaden had learned to only do to those in a higher position than him. He’d thought about showing his positivity by doing it for the Veurbois—but here he was, receiving it instead.

“Do not be surprised, for this is due,” Esel told him with a small smile. “We have not forgotten the true lord who rules the families.”

“I’m still learning, am I not? There’s no need to treat me like this.”

Esel shook his head. “Is that how the others displayed their respect, through stubborn precedence? This is the natural way of things, my young lord. I must show my regards. You appear to be uncomfortable.”

His face suddenly flashed with anger, streaks of thick veins popping out on his forehead. It quickly subsided, and he bowed.

“My apologies. The mere thought of their derogation brings forth spite from within.”

“That’s—fine.”

“You have my thanks. But I cannot keep you standing here. Shall we head inside?”

Shaden nodded. He looked back at the guide. “Will you be going now?”

“Yes, my lord. I shall return shortly to the Kingdom if you would allow it.”

“I allow it.”

Esel raised his hand, and the soldiers parted to make way for the expensive carriage that headed out on another journey. The gates promptly closed behind it, sealing the manor and its residents inside.

The moment Shaden passed the other members of the family, the entirety of the manor began to move; the silver-haired nobles walked behind them while the other subjects followed, and the servants and soldiers dispersed like dust on a windy morning, nearly running to return to their stations. There was no sound, but Shaden could feel it. They had all been waiting for him, down to the servant boy who was now fetching water from a well.

“We have prepared for you the best room in the manor,” Esel said as two servants swung open the doors to a large room. “Please.”

It was much too large for a boy like him to use alone. Had his whole family come with him, there still would have been plenty of room left. The extravagance was nothing to laugh at either. Gold-embroidered blankets covered the giant, glistening bed, and next to it was a dark nightstand that held an antique lamp carved by the finest craftsman. The closets filled every corner along with paintings, and there was so much detail in everything that it made his head spin.

“The arrangements will be changed at once if you order it,” Esel told him. “Does anything not please you?”

“I assume you were staying here before I arrived,” Shaden asked, looking around.

“Everything has been washed and purified down to the smallest part.”

“Er—I didn’t mean to say that. I wouldn’t want to take your bedroom. It’s a little too much.”

“Then the paintings and—”

“No, no,” Shaden waved his hands, feeling a new kind of intimidation. “If I live here, where will you stay?”

“I will move to the second-best room.”

“Who was staying there?”

“My eldest son.”

“And where will he go?”

“To the third best room.”

“I can’t make everyone do that,” Shaden said. “It’s needlessly inconvenient.”

“There is nothing needless about it,” Esel told him. “It is only natural.”

“No. It makes me uncomfortable. Give me a room that nobody was using before.”

“Surely not. I would not mock you in such a way.”

“It’s not mocking, at least for me,” Shaden insisted. “I know you have…certain customs that I’m not entirely aware of. But if you truly think of me as a lord, then please—treat me more comfortably.”

Small murmurs arose from the back, but someone tapped their foot or cane on the floor, silencing them. The older noble waved his hand, and the servants closed the bedroom door.

“I would not force anything upon you,” he said as a grey-haired butler came to him. “Merel, lead us to the best unoccupied room.”

“Yes, my lord.”

They were on the second floor. He’d expected them to move down, but they went upstairs instead to the third floor, going to the center of it, right above the master bedroom. The servants opened the doors.

The room was smaller with much less detail. While everything still looked ornate, it wasn’t as flashy. The moment Shaden entered the room, he felt as if something was correct. There was a vague familiarity about it. The traces of residue mana was faint as well, unlike the master bedroom which was filled with it—a sign that someone had been living there. But here, it was quiet.

“I like this room,” Shaden stated.

“I’m glad it is to your liking,” Esel said. “Now, shall I show you around the house? Or would you rest a while? There are many things to discuss, but these things can be taken slowly.”

“Then I’d like to rest if that’s okay,” Shaden said. “And, uh—say hello to an old friend.”

“It shall be as you say. Now, all of you—return to your duties. Except you, daughter.”

Their company bowed and departed from them. “Enjoy your time,” Esel told him with a nod, walking away after the others while his sons—Enen and Lan, he recalled—closely followed him alongside the old butler. Now that they were gone, it was only him and another. She smiled.

“It’s been a while, Shaden,” Eilae greeted, “or should I call you young lord?”

“Enough with that,” Shaden grunted. “Let’s go sit down. Or are you busy?”

“Not now.”

They headed into his room where they sat down around a small table. The smell of mellow wood was noticeable the moment he entered which he appreciated. He liked wood and book smells.

“So, it’s been a while,” Shaden began.

Eilae had grown and was taller than him. Being one year older than him, it made her fourteen—three years younger than his other self. Time passed so quickly in Exarria. Her face hadn’t changed that much aside from the fact that it had reverted to the time when he had first met her, before they’d become friends and she treated him distantly. Even while face-to-face, she didn’t loosen her cold smile.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“Three years, is it?” she sighed. “Shall I call some servants for tea?”

“Yes, please. I’ll have the same as you.”

Eilae called for someone, and there was a knock on the door. After Shaden allowed them to enter, the maid promptly left, returning with a cart equipped with cups, napkins, and pots alongside a fancy dessert tray with three layers of various sweets.

“Shall I pour the tea?” she asked.

“No; I’ll do it,” Eilae said. “You can head outside now.”

With a nod, the maid left, closing the door. Eilae began to organize the cups and pots, conjuring a pair of silver tweezers with which she got some tea leaves and put them in a pot. She gently picked up the other, steaming pot, pouring water into the first pot, rotating it slightly as she did it. Closing the lid, she put the water pot away.

“I hope you still like sweets,” she told him. “You didn’t like tea that much before.”

“I learned to enjoy them,” Shaden said. The prince had practically forced him to tea time every so often, sometimes going on and on about the different types of tea and how they were good for the body and mind. It had been amusing—and tasty. The bitterness of some teas made sweets even more delectable.

Shaden watched as Eilae poured the tea into their cups, not letting a single drop roll down the sides. After she was finished, she motioned for him to drink.

“Tartamatel,” Shaden realized after taking a sip. “It’s a mild but warm and inviting kind of tea.”

“You know of it?” Eilae said, a shimmer of energy lighting up in her eyes. But it quickly faded away. “I thought you didn’t care for it.”

“It’s hard not to learn when you’re living with a tea-lover,” Shaden grinned. “Thanks, Eilae. Commemorating our reunion, right?”

The language of tea leaves was a complicated thing with hundreds of variations, but he knew of some basic ones. Eilae looked pleased, picking a dessert with her fingers which she popped into her mouth delicately.

“Yes. I missed our times traveling in the west,” she said. “Now you’re here. Welcome to Vion.”

“Thanks. Three years was quicker than I thought it would be. It seems like yesterday when I last saw you at Skotos.”

“For me, it was very long. Did you enjoy your time with the other families?”

Shaden looked back. He thought about the sand and the sun, the smell of animals in the morning, his head on Grak’s tail, the cold, biting winds, the shouting and commanding, the limp bodies before the fire, his family’s faces, the silver scales, the long talks, and flying underneath a cloudy sky.

“It was alright,” Shaden shrugged. “There were good things. There were bad things. A lot of things happened. And you?”

“I was here all along, learning and practicing everything a young lady like me should,” she said, taking a sip of tea. “Two years with you made me forget and miss out on many lessons. But I caught up.”

“That’s great. It’s—kind of unreal. I wanted to see you a lot.”

“You did?”

“Is that strange? Wanting to see a friend?”

“No, not at all,” she shook her head, placing her cup down. “Did you receive my letters?”

“All of them. I have them with me.”

Perhaps one of the main reasons why the escorts had been able to find him was because he’d let them know around what date he would arrive upon Eilae’s request. Still, he’d wanted to arrive secretly to surprise them.

“Had you let the messengers know in detail, we could have received you better,” she said, eating another dessert. “We were rushed to greet you.”

“Ah. I didn’t know about that.”

“When you’re in higher positions, it’s no longer yourself that you’re moving, but everyone under your power. It’s important to carry oneself with wisdom and knowledge.”

“I guess I’ll be learning that here?” Shaden asked, biting into a sweet.

“No,” Eilae shook her head. “We will teach you about our gift. As for everything else, that is for you to decide.”

“Sure. I’ll learn the gift within a week. I guess I’ll take lessons with you then?” Shaden chuckled. But his humor came to a halt when he saw Eilae’s face.

She wasn’t smiling. She looked like a doll, completely without emotion. “You jest. Even with your talent, a week is impossible,” Eilae told him. “As my father has said, you have the leisure to take things slowly.”

“Eilae, you’re—”

Shaden stopped himself. “You seem a lot more mature.”

That was when he felt it. A wave of foreign mana hit his body like slow-moving gas, subtler than a cloud floating through the sky. But his feel for mana was keener than anyone. The sensation remained on his body for a few seconds before retreating—retracting right into Eilae.

“I only know more,” she said quietly. “I think I will leave now. Please don’t hesitate to call the servants if you require assistance. They are always listening. You will be called for dinner. Call for the servants to dress accordingly. I will see you then.”

She got up, walking to the door.

“Eilae?”

“I’m just a little tired, that’s all,” she smiled. “Shaden—I’m glad I was able to talk to you.”

She closed the door and her footsteps grew fainter in the distance. She’d changed. He’d imagined their reunion to be happier. His eyes rolled over the teapots and cups and sweets that lay uneaten on the table—and he thought about the girl who had laughed and giggled while they hung laundry at his house in Danark, the girl who had read stories to Melany, the girl who had skipped over the streets because she was excited to try out a new slice of cake. That girl was nowhere to be seen. He felt a tense squeeze in his stomach—and closed his eyes.

The manor’s structure soon came into his mind, as well as the living things within it. He quickly located Eilae, focusing on her face. Determining texture and detail was like second nature to him now after learning about it from Practol. He wondered if this truly was the same person, and a numb feeling overcame him, a habit from when he was up north.

Then he noticed it. A glisten in her eyes which she wiped with a sleeve. Her expression remained unchanged. He didn’t understand the meaning behind her actions. He stopped his mana and leaned back on his chair.

“Alone again in a place that I know little about,” he muttered, looking outside through the window. “What’s wrong, Eilae?”

There was no one there to answer him.

⤙ ◯ ⤚

“It’s a pleasure to have you in this household.”

Portiga, the lady of the household, was an older woman whose features would have stunned any man had she been twenty years younger, but even now in her old age, Shaden could see her beauty through her wrinkles. Eilae had gotten her looks from her mother. The lady beckoned to a servant, whispered something in their ear, and sent them away, turning to Shaden again.

“Would you tell us about your travels, my dear? May I call you that?” she asked with subtle elegance, placing her hands down. “We love getting to know each other. Isn’t that right, children?”

“Yes mother!” a younger girl piped up cheerfully. “I would love to hear stories.” She was Eilae’s only younger sister—Eyla. Next to her, Ailan—the youngest of them all—nodded silently.

“It’s as you know. I went to Nafar, then Bughast, then Melern. Now I’m here.”

“Surely there’s more to it,” the lady insisted, holding up a glass of wine. “Things that are memorable and things you want to forget.”

“Dear, no need to be discourteous,” Esel spoke, “but we are indeed all very curious.”

“We don’t get to go outside much, you see,” Nerr—the eldest daughter—added. “It is only father and the older boys who get to go outside.”

“Don’t call us boys,” Lan said with a frown. “You’re embarrassing us.”

“Now, now, we are all family here,” Esel cleared his throat, lightly smacking the table. “Lord Shaden—I would like to treat you as one of our own. And you will be after learning of our gift.”

“I thank you for that,” Shaden said. He glanced at Eilae through the corner of his eye. She was focused on her food. “Speaking of gift, I remember it being the gift of empathy.”

“And you would be correct. We can empathize and make people empathize which you will soon learn. It is a delicate thing that, if used wrongly, could drive the sanest man mad. It will be unlike the other gifts. We hope to guide you well.”

“Quite the boring conversation,” Nerr sighed. “I’d also be interested in listening to your travels, Lord Shaden.”

“Please, just call me Shaden.” He turned to Esel. “You were treating my grandfather like a friend. Why be respectful towards me?”

“Between us, we reached an understanding. But you will be the new face of Skotos, greater than your grandfather ever was,” Esel told him. “I have also heard stories, you see. Of a great curer in the south and of city fireworks up north. Of how the skies above Raconel turned dark.”

Shaden froze. “How much do you know?”

“Not enough to determine the finer details,” the older man said, touching his chin. “Only rumors that happen to occur where you go. These coincidences are enough to make anyone curious.”

Everyone’s eyes were on him now. Shaden placed his fork down.

“Where shall I begin? I’m not a good storyteller.”

“I would like to ask if that is fine,” Enen said. He wasn’t as young as the others, looking like he was in his early thirties. Naturally, he was the eldest—the one who likely would lead after Esel.

“Yes, of course.”

“There was a report of a boy who had caused a great miracle at the outskirts of Nafar in the city of the Wall of Arrows,” Enen began. “Limbs were restored and illnesses were healed over one night. The blind were able to see and those with hunched backs could walk up straight again. There had been nothing like it in the history of the kingdom. But truth is often bent. One of the Elders was seen as well—Morohar the Teacher. Perhaps it was him who had brought about such a miracle. And yet, people insist that an outsider had healed them. Are you aware of the truth?”

Shaden scratched his cheek. “Yeah, that was me. It might be hard to believe, but I used healing magic on the entire wall.”

It sounded ridiculous, even to him. But their expressions didn’t change in the slightest. “Then what about the disappearance of the Second Prince?” Enen added.

“He flew into the sky, didn’t he?” Shaden smiled, remembering the scene. “Disappeared without a trace.”

It was completely silent for a few long seconds before something clanged on the floor. A servant immediately reached down, and Ailan apologized for being clumsy.

“I—I’m sorry,” he said, wiping his mouth. “Please go on.”

“Ah, yes!” Nerr exclaimed, clapping her hands in realization. “The Jakhar Kishaks can communicate with animals, can they not? Have you learned how to do so?”

“Yes, I have,” Shaden nodded. “If you have any animals or pets, I can help you take care of them.”

“Take care of them? What do you mean?”

“Well, the usual. Feeding, washing, walking.”

“Oh, dear! The servants will do the hard work,” Portiga gasped, covering her open mouth with the tips of her fingers. “Do stay away from lowly labor. We would not want to disgrace you.”

Shaden nodded.

“Did you learn everything from the other families as well?” Eyla asked innocently, her blue eyes twinkling like polished sapphires. “I think it’s amazing that you can learn everything so quickly.”

“Yes, I did, and thanks,” Shaden grinned. “I’m a fast learner, so don’t be surprised if I learn your gift within a week.”

The edges of a few lips rose then fell at his statement. Looks of amusement were shared. The air subtly moved around them as if their thoughts were being passed around. Empathy, Shaden remembered. How exactly did it work?

“Then we mustn't make you wait,” Esel said, beckoning for a servant. “Bring the book from my study.”

“Yes, my lord.”

The ancient black book was brought before him, placed upon a cushion embroidered with silver. It was in pristine condition, and the servant who held it in his hands was wearing gloves as if dealing with something pricey and delicate. Shaden could feel the tug of power from it. It called for him to read it, learn of it, and consume its techniques.

“Take it to my room,” Shaden told the servant. The man bowed and left the room without a second glance.

“We must discuss your birthday celebration,” Esel announced with a hint of excitement. “It will have to be a proper ball. Might you know how to dance?”

“Eilae taught me a little. But that was long ago.”

“Then she will teach you again.” Eilae lowered her head in reply.

Shaden glanced at his old friend. Her eyes had returned to her food, uncaring for the conversation that was happening. Expressionless yet graceful, like a doll being moved by a master puppeteer through invisible strings. Uncanny considering that she wasn’t like this before.

It wasn’t only her. Everyone’s faces shared a degree of perfection, and not only their faces but in their mannerisms and speech as well. Their backs were straight, their arms balanced, their heads angled in the same way, silverware gripped with the same fingers in the same positions.

A wave of something. Shaden looked straight at Nerr, right into her eyes. The feeling had retreated into her. She blinked back at him.

“Is there something wrong?” she asked.

“No…I just felt something on me,” Shaden said, trying not to frown.

Something shifted. The smallest muscle on Nerr’s eyebrow twitched ever so slightly. Ailan had stopped his spoon midway to his mouth. Eilae wasn’t looking at her food anymore.

“Nerr!”

The lord’s shout thundered over the room, almost making him flinch. “You would dare examine the young lord!”

Nerr abruptly rose from her chair, her face stricken with fear. She couldn’t have been twenty. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she quavered, covering her mouth while her wide eyes faced the floor directly below her. “I didn’t mean to offend—I didn’t mean to displease you.”

“Er—you didn’t. There’s no need for this,” Shaden said, putting up a hand. “Mana detection, right? I do it all the time.”

“You will come to understand otherwise when you learn of our gift,” Esel spoke firmly, his eyes cold with anger. “What she has done was trying to read your emotions. Such an immature and witless act cannot be overlooked.”

Nerr didn’t reply. Her body was rigid as if she had been chained.

“The gift of empathy. Is that what it is? Reading emotions?”

“And creating them,” Esel confirmed. “Breaching privacy and an attempt at manipulation. These are her charges.”

“There’s no need to be so serious about it,” Shaden said worryingly. “It’s not that bad, I don’t think.”

“If she had done the same to the Emperor, her head would be on the floor,” Esel spat. “Foolish, so utterly foolish. You are well of age. I thought you wiser than this.”

“Father, my lord, allow me atonement,” Nerr said.

“Bring me the whip.”

Shaden opened his mouth. “Uh—”

“This is for her sake,” Esel said after seeing his discomfort, “so that she may not be so daring again.”

A servant brought the lord a long, leather whip of scarlet, and without hesitation, Nerr faced the wall, undressing her top and exposing her back. She shut her eyes tightly, bracing herself for impact. Her brothers and sisters had stopped eating, but their eyes were still in front of them on their plates. No one moved while the lord raised the whip in his hand.

The only people who ate were Nerr’s two older brothers, who looked unfazed by the situation. They gracefully selected their meals, chewing with poise. Everyone younger than her was still. Her mother simply frowned.

“The first for acting out of line,” Esel said, lashing out once, “for disrespecting the young lord. The second for your ignorant attempt.” It tore her skin, causing blood to drip. “The third for your foolishness. The fourth—for your selfishness. The fifth for feigning innocence.”

“That’s enough!” Shaden said, not being able to stand the sight. “This is too much. I have already forgiven her, so stop now.”

The lord stopped, lowering the bloodied whip. “Then five will be enough,” he said, handing the whip to a servant.

When Grak had been killed, Shaden had often imagined getting revenge on Nicar for what she had done. After knowing her a little better, he’d hated her less but still had had the smallest of grudges locked away somewhere in his heart. True repentance. A proper apology. That was what he had wanted.

“I’m grateful for your mercy,” Nerr said bowing towards him while holding her clothing over her chest.

It didn’t feel as good as he had imagined. And so great a punishment for so little. It didn’t seem fair at all. He scowled, walking towards Nerr who remained still.

Raising his hand, he allowed a gentle stream of magic to flow from his fingers onto Nerr, mending the broken flesh on her back. It healed within seconds. Nerr breathed out sharply.

“Does it hurt?” he asked.

“It’s soothing,” she told him with her eyes closed.

Within seconds, there was no sign of any wound. Shaden sighed, turning back towards the table. The younger children’s backs were away from him so he couldn’t see their faces, and only the lord, the lady, and their eldest sons faced him, though the two younger men still ate normally. Lady Portiga was covering her mouth with a hand with a hint of surprise.

“Let her leave so she can wash the blood off,” Shaden said, sitting back down. “We still need to discuss the party, no?”

“We shall,” Esel nodded with the smallest smile.

Nerr was sent away, and they began talking once more, going over the details. It would be a great ball with many guests, and he would be a distant relative of theirs ‘adopted’ into the main family for his extraordinary talent. He would learn how to dance, and the servants would take his measurements to craft lavish suits for him. Afterwards, he would learn of their methods and ‘gift,’ fulfilling his part.

His head spun with a kind of dizzy excitement. Maybe the lashing and the blood had added to it. He could circulate to clear it, but he liked the sensation. It was different from naive wonder, uncertain worry, or spiteful anger. It was an encounter with the familiar, the rediscovering of old hopes that he’d had for his journey of learning the ancient gifts.

It was also partly because of Eilae. Because after he had healed Nerr, she’d begun glancing over at him when his attention was elsewhere, but he noticed. The familiar look of admiration. The nostalgic raising of eyebrows that said, “Shaden, you’re too kind.”

They were gone soon enough. But her old self was in there somewhere, behind the intricate mask she’d crafted for herself.

What happened? He wanted to ask. And he would.

He had a whole year to do so.