Merin's face seemed permanently stuck with her lips pursed. It was an expression that Red could only make out now that they were settled in their room for the night. When they'd walked through the streets her feminine face had to be covered with cloth. She was too delicate, so he heaped all he could to bulk up her frame. All of that wasn't enough. Merin attracted trouble and attention, and the men they passed had lingering eyes on her. Those eyes might have looked away if they could see the look on her face now.

Merin maintained that strange expression as she chewed on her dinner, drank water, and even finished her night routine. It all but became a permanent fixture on the woman's face.

Red was ready to put the day to bed when Merin finally broke her silence.

"Girls can't be born in this land?" She said in Habrinon.

Red gave a stiff nod. He'd already said everything he needed to on this subject. There was nothing more he could add.

Merin was still reflecting on it. It might be time for the man to think about why she was so far behind on the times. Merin might be even more special than he initially thought. Instead of being shielded, as her looks suggested, she was slow for other reasons.

"Merin, where are you from?" He said in her language. It took the polyglot time to comprehend and understand her language. Her language had more nuances that shifted the entire sentence easily. This complexity would serve them both well in the future.

"From a land that is dead. Before Habrin and Elan." She said before plopping on her bed and turning her back towards him. She said a few more words he couldn't understand. He might have a better chance if he had an opportunity to look at her lips. But she'd taken that from him, and he was ready to sleep, not talk.

"Get your rest." He said in Habrinon. "Tomorrow, we will go over your lessons."

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

Merin regretted losing sleep the night before. Red didn't clarify if the lessons were hard, but they were clearly designed to torture her.

"Your posture is perfect," Red said. His tone showed he was in half-thought.

He made her learn poses, bows, courtesys, and the chain of command in Habrin.

The intricate rules for power were boring and long-winded, but Red was drilling each piece of the cog into her head. Anytime she tried to question him, he'd create more things for her to practice. Merin wisely learned to shut up.

It wasn't like she would need any of this outside of practice.

When Red finished his lesson, it was time for their midday meal.

"Why won't you let me heal the slave brand?" Merin said the moment Red's mouth was empty of food.

Two orbs of different colors looked at her for several seconds. Finally, Red said, "It hasn't served its purpose. Has your power fully recovered?"

Merin shook her head. She could easily handle his brand, but the stubborn man wouldn't let her touch it. What purpose did it have other than harming and stripping one of his dignity? That's what slave brands do.

"We'll go over lessons for a couple more weeks before we leave," Red said.

Merin nodded, but part of her was confused about why she was still with him. Her powers not being fully treated as the reason was a lie. The bond that now tied them was an excellent excuse but not the only one.

She was morbidly curious about Red and felt like life would be fun if she followed him. He'd helped and saved her when she was at her lowest. That was enough for now. Once the debt was repaid, she would go back to drifting as she waited out her immortality.

And if the bond transferred that lifespan to Red, they'd find each other and catch up one day.

Red waited until Merin fell asleep before slipping out of their shared room. He had an eye patch over his red eyeball and a black hood to hide his body in shadows.

The man moved stealthily through the streets as he followed the familiar route. His presence was as light as a speck of dust as he finally arrived at his destination.

The familiar scent that wafted from the door soothed an internal knot Red didn't know he held. Red rapped on the door in rapid succession and precision. He would always remember the code, which was the only way to open this door.

It swung open, and he was greeted by a burly, tall man who had a smile as wide as a cutlass. "You're finally back, lad."

Red lifted his hood, and a matching smile curved his lips. "And with the perfect weapon to boot, Dad."

"Tell me about it." His father figure moved to let him inside and closed the door behind him.