Adrian stepped into the guest room, its elegant furnishings contrasting sharply with the heavy presence of Galtier, who stood by the window. His figure seemed to carry an unusual stillness, as if weighed down by more than just his armor.

"Selena told me you wanted to talk to me?" Adrian asked.

“I wanted to speak with you,” Galtier said. He turned from the window to face Adrian. “Now that I have the cure, I intend to return to Willowbrook and take care of my sister.”

Adrian studied him, his blue eyes narrowing slightly. He’s too proud to say it outright, but he’s carrying a lot more than that vial. “I understand, but what about the journey?"

Galtier straightened slightly, his posture radiating that familiar stoic resolve. “Don't worry, I'll manage."

"Just going out of this estate alone sounds dangerous, let alone making it all the way back to Willowbrook."

“You’re suggesting I stay? Delay this any longer?”

“No,” Adrian replied firmly. “I’m saying you don’t have to do this alone. Let me talk to Lysander. He can arrange transport to make sure you get to your sister safely."

For a long moment, Galtier didn’t respond. Adrian held his gaze, or rather, the opaque gaze of the helm. Finally, the knight inclined his head slightly, the faintest hint of reluctance in the motion. “If you insist, I won’t refuse assistance. Not if it ensures the cure reaches my sister.”

Adrian allowed himself a small, relieved smile. “Good."

After a few minutes of walking, the two arrived at Lysander’s study. Adrian rapped his knuckles against the wooden doors, the sound sharp and commanding. A muffled “Enter” followed, and he pushed the door open.

Inside, Lysander sat behind a massive oak desk, its surface cluttered with maps, documents, and a half-full goblet of wine. The Whitewynn patriarch looked up, his silver-gray eye sharp as it locked onto the pair. “Adrian. Galtier. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Adrian stepped forward, folding his hands in front of him. “We need your assistance. Galtier has the cure for his sister’s curse, and he’s heading back to Willowbrook to take care of her. But it’s dangerous to travel alone, especially carrying something so valuable. I thought it best to ask if you might provide transport.”

Lysander leaned back in his chair, studying them with an inscrutable expression. “A noble cause. Though I can’t help but notice Galtier himself hasn’t asked me directly.”

Galtier straightened, his armored shoulders rigid. “I don’t make it a habit to ask for favors, Lord Whitewynn. But if it ensures my sister’s safety, then I’ll defer to Adrian’s judgment.”

Lysander’s eye narrowed slightly, his lips curving into a small, approving smile. “Very well. I’ll have my men prepare a carriage and an armed escort. Consider it a show of generosity.”

“Thank you,” Galtier said, inclining his head in a measured nod. Then, he turned to Adrian. “I’ll take my leave now. There’s much to do.”

Adrian stepped forward, clasping Galtier’s forearm with a firm grip. “Take care of yourself, and your sister."

Galtier’s helm tilted slightly. Then, with a wordless nod, he turned and strode out. The rhythmic clink of his armor echoed down the corridor.

Adrian remained still, his hand falling to his side. He stared at the door for a moment, the emptiness of the room pressing against him.

Behind him, the faint sound of liquid shifting in crystal broke his thoughts. Adrian turned to see Lysander seated with casual poise, swirling the wine in his goblet as though time itself were his to command. Since I'm alone with Lysander, I might as well shoot my shot.

"Lysander, can I ask you something?"

"Hm? That depends, but do speak your mind."

Adrian straightened his posture. “I’d like to return to Willowbrook soon, and I’d like to bring Selena with me.”

Lysander’s hand stilled mid-motion. The swirling wine settled, its surface unnervingly calm, as he set the goblet down. When he looked up, his silver-gray gaze locked onto Adrian with an intensity that felt almost tangible.

“No,” Lysander said simply,

Adrian stiffened, the single word hitting harder than he anticipated. “Why not? She's been cooped up here long enough—”

“Because she’s safer here in South Tusk than she could ever be in Willowbrook, as long as she’s under the Whitewynn’s protection, no one would dare harm her.”

“That’s not the point! It’s not fair to her—”

“It’s not about fairness,” Lysander said sharply. “It’s about perspective. Something you, my boy, still need more of.”

Adrian bristled, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Is she not just another one of your servants at the end of the day? I'll admit she's being treated better than I expected, but that doesn't change the fact that she never had much of a choice."

Lysander’s expression softened, though his tone remained firm. “Adrian, stay here a few more days. Natasha and I are preparing to leave on a trip soon. Once we’ve gone, you’ll be free to return to Willowbrook. I’ll even arrange an escort for you.”

“And Selena?” Adrian pressed.

“She stays,” Lysander said, his words final. “But I’ll allow her to visit you in Willowbrook from time to time. That’s the best I can offer.”

Adrian exhaled sharply, forcing down his frustration. “Fine, but is there anything you want me to do while I’m here?”

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Lysander’s expression lightened, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “As a matter of fact, yes. Natasha doesn’t have many friends her age. It would mean a great deal to me if you’d spend some time with her.”

“Where is she now?”

“At the stables, likely preparing for a hunt."

***

Adrian's boots crunched against the gravel path as he approached the stables. The largest stall door was open, and there, Natasha was tightening the saddle straps on a sleek black mare.

She was fitted with a riding jacket of deep crimson and high leather boots that reached just below her knees, polished to a mirror shine. Her white riding breeches, though pristine, bore subtle marks of use, a bow and a quiver of arrows rested at her side, completing her ensemble.

Adrian stopped a few steps away as Natasha swung herself gracefully onto the horse. She caught sight of him and arched a brow, her expression caught between mild irritation and curiosity. “And what are you doing here?”

Adrian raised his hands in a small shrug. “Your father asked me to accompany you.”

She blinked, then tilted her head with a soft scoff. “Did he now? Well, you can tell him I prefer to hunt alone.”

Adrian nodded, taking a step back. Fair enough. Not like I was thrilled to be dragged into this. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it then. Have fun.”

Natasha’s expression shifted subtly, her eyes darting toward him as her lips parted, then closed again. She exhaled sharply, gripping the reins a bit tighter. “Wait.”

Adrian stopped mid-turn, raising an eyebrow as she looked anywhere but at him. What does she want now?

“I suppose if you’re already here, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world for you to join me. Just don’t slow me down.” Natasha said.

Adrian’s lips twitched into a small smile, though he fought to keep it from spreading further. Typical. “I’ll do my best to keep up.”

“Good,” she replied, her tone curt but betraying the faintest hint of satisfaction. She tugged at the reins, guiding her horse toward the stable’s open doors. “But don’t expect me to wait for you if you fall behind.”

The stable hand approached Adrian with a calm demeanor, leading a sturdy chestnut horse to his side. “Here you go, young sir,” the man said, offering a gloved hand to help Adrian mount.

Adrian accepted, swinging himself into the saddle. The horse shifted beneath him, its muscles tense with energy, but Adrian managed to find his balance eventually.

Another servant handed him a bow. Adrian hefted it briefly, testing its weight, then sighed and handed it back. “Thanks, but I’ll manage without.”

The servant blinked in surprise but took the bow without question. Natasha, already perched atop her black mare and guiding it toward the stable’s exit, glanced over her shoulder. “How exactly are you planning to hunt without a bow? Going to throw rocks at the deer?”

Adrian smirked and raised his hand, conjuring a glowing bow of blue flames. The ethereal weapon pulsed faintly in the air, crackling with power. “I brought one of my own.”

Natasha halted her horse, twisting in the saddle to look at him fully. Her lips curved into a slow smile, her amusement giving way to genuine admiration. “Now that’s interesting,” she murmured. Without another word, she unshouldered her own bow and handed it off to the same servant. “Here, keep this. I won’t be needing it.”

Adrian watched curiously as Natasha extended her hand, her palm glowing faintly. Scarlet tendrils swirled in the air around her, coalescing into a bow of deep crimson. “I like how you think."

Adrian’s brow lifted, "not bad,” he said casually, nudging his horse forward to meet hers. “Shall we?”

Natasha didn’t respond immediately, urging her horse into a canter as they left the stables and entered the sprawling woods that bordered the Whitewynn estate. Adrian followed, the cool air brushing against his face and the sound of hooves muffled by the forest floor.

After a few minutes of silent riding, Natasha glanced at him. “This shouldn't be just a casual hunt. Let’s make it interesting.”

Adrian tilted his head. “Interesting how?”

“We’ll each hunt our own prey. First one to bring down a stag wins.”

“And what does the winner get?”

“The winner gets to ask a favor from the loser. Anything they want.”

“Oh? Anything?”

“Anything,” Natasha repeated. “Unless, of course, you’re scared to lose.”

Adrian smirked, his fiery bow flickering into existence in his hand. “Deal,” he said firmly, meeting her gaze. She’s too smug for her own good. Let’s see if I can take her down a peg.

Natasha clicked her tongue, urging her horse forward. “Then we’ll split up here. Whoever returns first with proof of their stag wins.”

Adrian nodded, guiding his horse to the left while Natasha veered to the right. The sound of her horse’s hooves faded into the distance as the forest seemed to close in around him.

The minutes dragged on as he rode deeper into the woods. A rustle to his left sent a jolt of adrenaline through him, but it was only a fox darting between the trees. This shouldn’t be this hard. Where are all the stags?

He slowed his horse to a walk, the silence pressing against him. Until finally, in a small clearing ahead, he caught sight of movement: a stag with a proud rack of antlers.

Adrian’s heart quickened as he nudged his horse forward, keeping his movements slow. Easy does it, this could be my kill for the day.

Drawing the string of his fiery bow, he aimed carefully, lining up the shot. Just as he loosed the arrow, the stag’s ears flicked, and it bolted, the glowing arrow slicing harmlessly through the air. Adrian cursed under his breath, spurring his horse into a gallop to give chase.

The stag weaved through the trees with startling agility, its powerful legs carrying it effortlessly over obstacles. Adrian’s horse strained to keep up, the uneven terrain adding to the challenge.

He nocked another arrow, leaning low against the horse’s neck as he aimed. The second shot went wide, the arrow burying itself into the ground. Damn, this is much harder to do on horseback.

The stag veered sharply to the right, heading toward a denser thicket. Adrian’s horse stumbled slightly on a root, forcing him to pull back. Think, Adrian. You’re not going to win by playing it safe.

An idea sparked in his mind. He slowed his horse, allowing the stag to gain some distance. Extinguishing his bow, he raised a hand, conjuring a small orb of blue fire. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the orb flying ahead of the stag, where it landed in the underbrush and exploded into a harmless burst. The stag reared in panic, veering off its path and into a more open stretch of forest.

Adrian pressed forward, his horse galloping hard to close the gap. The stag was disoriented but still fast, its powerful strides carrying it away from him. Adrian conjured his bow again, the flames licking at his fingertips as he nocked an arrow. This time, he didn’t aim for the stag directly. Instead, he fired at a low-hanging branch ahead of it, setting the wood ablaze.

The fire crackled, startling the stag into halting abruptly. Adrian wasted no time, drawing another arrow and then loosing it. The fiery projectile struck true, and the stag collapsed to the ground with a final, labored breath.

Adrian slowed his horse, the weight of the moment sinking in as he approached the downed animal. He dismounted before he placed a hand over its head briefly. Thank you for your sacrifice, I'll make sure you end up delicious.

He tied the stag securely to his horse before climbing back into the saddle. Turning toward the direction he and Natasha had split, he urged his horse into a steady trot, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Let’s see if Natasha’s confidence holds up when she sees this.