Alanna scoffed visibly, drawing their attention.

“I expect this from Father Thrysis and Father Olufemi,” she said to Ezril. “But not from you, Father Ezril.”

Ezril smiled at her. Though his strength grew, it still waned significantly. It proved to be a while before he would carry himself with ease. “I would apologize, Sister Alanna,” he began, switching to the realm tongue. “But there are things my brothers would rather no one else heard.”

She fixed him with a glare and, finding him unfazed, conceded. “Perhaps you are correct. Although, it would be polite if you did remember that though I may be a sister of the church, I am still a lady.”

She frowned at his suppressed laughter and, choosing to ignore it, added: “I must say though, that I never thought it possible for Father Olufemi to use so many words at once.”

Salem choked back a laugh. “And I didn’t think you observant, Sister Alanna. You prove me wrong.”

Ezril shook his head, too fatigued to contemplate the possible events to have transpired during his slumber. But one thing was certain: Alanna’s dislike for his brothers was comfortably returned.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Alanna scoffed. “I’ll leave you priests to yourselves; I have work at the infirmary.”

While she made her exit, Olufemi frowned.

I don’t like how she smells, he signed. Ezril didn’t fail to note how his brother had placed his hands away from Salem’s view.

And the priestess is coming, Olufemi finished quickly.

Ezril turned to find Lenaria a few paces away from them.

“I’m fairly certain that I’m still ill,” he told her. “And it’s not polite to keep an ill person waiting.”

“That’s true,” she agreed. “But it doesn’t apply to us, Ezril.”

Ezril frowned. During their time in the orphanage she had been the same. Disturbing him even when he was ill. He’d hoped to buy time with her conversation. Apparently, his hope proved unhelpful.

“I hear the wolf that keeps howling is yours,” Lenaria added. “I’d like to see it.”

Ezril pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. “Now?”

Lenaria folded her arms, smiling. “Yes.”

“Can’t this wait?”

“No.”

Shade laid on the dirt behind the tower. A massive metal collar around its neck was fastened to the walls by massive chains fashioned to restrain a Titan. No doubt, Olufemi had been responsible for it. It observed Ezril with a mix of annoyance and ferocity portrayed in a low growl as they approached it. It looked bigger now. Still, there was no argument that the weeks without nourishment had taken its toll on it.

Having calmed Shade down with gentle rubs and no words, Ezril stood to the side in observation.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

The Atle wolf watched Lenaria with a perplexed gaze while she rubbed at its neck. She seemed unperturbed by either its size or its visage as Ezril had grown accustomed to seeing in other people. However, Shade never handled other people the way it was handling her. It watched and responded as if dealing with a wolf cub. Lenaria, on the other hand, seemed her juvenile self, tugging at its fur whenever she felt the need, going as far as staring it in the eye. At one point Ezril nearly choked on a laugh when Shade shrieked in a failed attempt at retreat. Lenaria pulled on its fur at the last moment before proceeding to inspect its teeth. As small as she was she showed no fear around the wolf. And he has trampled larger men with greater ease.

“I’ve never seen it so nice to anyone,” Ezril said.

“What can I say…” Lenaria shrugged. “Animals like me.”

Ezril’s mind thought back to a cat they had come across while they were children at Green Wood and how poorly the encounter had gone and shook his head in disagreement.

“No, Aria,” he said. “They really don’t.”

Shade’s annoyance and perplexity soon gave way to acceptance. It’s loudest protest against Lenaria’s probing soon became a mild whimper at best. All the while Ezril’s strength returned to him faster than he had anticipated.

They remained with Shade until nightfall, retiring into the tower where it seemed the Lord Commander had offered rooms to the sisters.

………………………….

Deep in the night Ezril woke to the sound of knocking against his door. There was no urgency in it and whoever it was seemed to feel they had all the time. Finding he had missed the soft comfort of the bed, he dallied a while, contemplating whether to answer the knock or wait out his unwanted guest. The knocking continued, each more enthusiastic than the next. It wasn’t long before his desire for peace outweighed his dislike for company.

Rising from his bed, Ezril made his way to the door. It was a fine thing, if he ever did see one. Like every other furniture in the room, it was fashioned from oak with a polished brown color and a weight heavier than most doors he had come across. The handle, a metal painted to fit the semblance of gold, retained a fashionable smoothness and a curve that fit perfectly with his grip.

He opened the door and sighed. Lenaria stood before him clad in a brown flowing gown, no doubt what she wore for her nights.

Ezril observed her, when he finally spoke, he was resigned. “This too?”

Lenaria nodded eagerly, face beaming with a wide smile, and unperturbed by the possibility of being seen. The sisters where occupied in the rooms above him and his brothers. Each had their own rooms. Whether they were as comfortable as that of Ezril and his brothers’, he did not know. And he did not care.

Lenaria skipped her way passed him and into the room, leaving him to close the door behind her. Ezril shook his head and did just that. She brought with her memories he had never truly reminisced on.

“Why are you here, Aria?”

“I hate the dark,” she answered, as if it was the most reasonable of answers to the dumbest of questions. She looked up at him with her wide smile that said he should have known better.

“Then go to one of your sister’s rooms,” he told her, ignoring whatever it was he should have known. “No one will be happy about you being here.”

“My sisters don’t like me very much,” she replied, fluffing one of his pillows. “And I like them even less.”

Ezril scratched his head. “Then how did you deal with the dark in the convent?”

“I didn’t,” she answered absently. “I slept in the room I was given.”

“Then sleep in the room you’ve been given now.”

She turned to him like he had made another dumb statement. “And why would I do that?”

“Because you’ve always done it.”

“Yes,” she agreed, “because I had no choice. But now I know where your room is, I have no reason to continue to deal with it myself.” She shrugged and proceeded to lay at one end of the bed.

Ezril sighed again, his resignation eating away at him and walked up to her. “We’re still doing this?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He hadn’t cared much for the nights when they were younger, and he found he didn’t care much for it now. When they’d been smaller, though she’d never entered his house, he knew she had on a few occasions, fallen asleep at his window. Back then he had been unable to do anything about it for fear that she would choose never to return to his home for food if he had said anything. It had worried him then. Now, despite the issues he knew this was going to cause, at least he could take solace in the fact that she was sleeping on a bed where he could keep his eye on her.

With another sigh, he took out a blanket and, spreading it on the floor beside the bed next to where she lay, he laid down. The last thing he wanted was to be caught sharing a bed with her by someone that mattered.

This was going to be a long night.