Ailn scanned the reactions in the room with as much subtlety as he could. Kylian was wincing—probably because Ailn been so direct. Sophie had a squint in her eye that was definitely not happy. Ennieux was trembling—anger, not fear—and Renea seemed a little upset.

“Well, I… am not one to pry into people’s private meetings,” Renea spoke quietly. “Though Sophie has mentioned some of your interactions I believe.”

“We would simply meet for conversation, Ailn,” Sophie said. “We are acquaintances.”

Ailn was a little surprised to hear his name called casually without any title. Especially since Kylian was here.

“Acquaintances that arranged to meet so frequently?” Ailn asked.

“We are friends,” Sophie said, her increasing displeasure evident in her voice.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Ailn said, putting on his most grateful smile. “It’s good to know I’m close to someone who’s so important to my sister.”

Renea, who had previously been gazing at the table a little sadly, peered over at him. She seemed touched by the sentiment.

“And I’m certain it was a rather frightful experience to… see me in such a state,” Ailn’s eyes cast downward. “Strange though it may be for me to say it, I hate that I indirectly put you through such an experience.”

This statement, however, seemed to make Renea’s brows furrow. She said nothing, and even started to purse her lips tightly.

Her shoulders slouched ever so slightly.

Sophie meanwhile, stood tall as ever. Maybe even a little taller than usual, at least in how she carried herself. She was bristling so intently it looked like she had her hackles raised.

“...Yes. It was very scary,” Sophie said, unconsciously taking a half—no, quarter—step back. “There’s no need to apologize.”

“Thank you,” Ailn gave her a sad and weak smile, the sight of which made her turn her eyes away. “On a cheerier topic, what would we talk about?”

“Hm?” Sophie seemed surprised by the question. She craned her head back toward Ailn quite slowly, while echoing his words. “What would we… talk about?”

“I wish to replace the unpleasant things with happier memories,” Ailn said, his hand clenched lightly with gentle determination. “What did the two of us talk about? We were good enough friends to meet often weren’t we?”

“Yes… we talked about many things,” Sophie said. “We met frequently, and discussed many topics. Too many to name.”

“Then it should be a simple task to name one, shouldn’t it?” Ailn asked.

“...Life and somesuch,” Sophie said.

“And somesuch? That’s rather vague,” Ailn said.

“We would chat regarding the events of our day and other such philosophical inquiries,” Sophie groaned.

“What did you enjoy the most about my company?” Ailn asked.

Sophie’s lips were a very thin line.

“... Your free spirit. Your devil-may-care attitude made me smile,” Sophie said, not smiling. “It was a great deal of fun, if only you could remember it. Excuse me while I go and refill the basket of bread.”

Sophie trudged out of the room, not bothering to grab the basket of bread she was allegedly going to refill.

“Ailn eum-Creid, what is wrong with you?” Ennieux whispered furiously. “And here I was kind enough to stay quiet!”

She gave a little slam to the table that made the plates and silverware clatter lightly. It was hardly an action meant to intimidate; rather, it was a feeble release of her pent-up nerves.

“Ennieux, I know for a fact their meetings are perfectly innocent,” Renea sighed heavily. “There is nothing to stay quiet about.”

“Oh? Then why does Sophie speak with such obscurity when I confront her? And why would she act so spurned?” Ennieux asked, her tone growing increasingly incredulous. She glared at Ailn. “Is your memory truly vanished? You seem rather eager to resume prior business.”

“Ennieux!” Renea tried to hush her aunt.

“Goodness, how am I the unreasonable one?” Ennieux muttered. Snatching the last piece of bread, she began furiously yet politely chewing, her hand raised to hide her dainty bites. “He is the one who seems obsessed!”

“You do… you do seem quite interested in Sophie,” Renea muttered.

“Exactly!” Ennieux pointed with her bread, before letting it rest on her plate. “People see! And then they speak! Why give them more to whisper about?”

“It seems there’s much to whisper about today,” Sophie said, reappearing suddenly behind Ennieux, who gave a surprised squeak and nearly fell out of her seat. “Though I would hardly call the present volume whispering.”

Sophie’s voice sounded terribly cold. She pulled right up to Ennieux’s shoulder, and loomed imperiously over her poor aunt.

“Perhaps all of you would be so forthright as to tell me what you were discussing,” Sophie said.

“We were still on the topic of those meetings between the two of us,” Ailn said, helpfully. “Ennieux had some thoughts. She had a lot to say, actually.”

“Wha—” Ennieux stared flabbergasted at Ailn, her hand still hanging limply over her frail heart.

“Oh?” Sophie asked. “In spite of my numerous assurances there was nothing interesting to discuss about those meetings?”

“That seems like a cold way of putting it,” Ailn frowned.

Ennieux turned her eyes away from Sophie’s icy stare.

“I was merely expressing mild concern,” Ennieux said, waving her hand in a gesture of resignation. “There is no need to act so sensitively, Sophie. Heavens.”

Sophie said nothing, but she continued to peer suspiciously at Ennieux, who attempted to ignore it. Ennieux, turning her attention to her goblet of water, sipped quietly at it, enduring Sophie’s stare until she could no longer stand it.

“Weren’t you supposed to get bread?!” Ennieux snapped.

“Ah.” Sophie had apparently forgotten. She stared blankly at the table, who stared back at her.

“Ahem,” Kylian lightly coughed. “I’m rather famished, and I wouldn’t mind a refill of bread. If it pleases you.”

“...Would you, Sophie?” Renea asked, pleadingly. She picked up the bread basket, and held it out for Sophie with a gentle dangle.

Sophie stiffly approached the table, not even looking at Renea as she took the basket from her. Instead, her gaze was fixed on Kylian; she squinted at him wordlessly before making her way out of the parlor.

“Bad move, Kylian,” Ailn said, shaking his head. “You’re gonna have a rough dinner.”

“Merely from that?” Kylian muttered.

“Ailn eum-Creid,” Ennieux broke in with a harsh whisper—this time making sure to watch for Sophie behind her shoulder—“I will ask you to act with self-awareness as it pertains to your station! Consider how you appear to others!”

She gave an angry sigh, and momentarily regained her composure. Then, clasping her hands together sweetly, she turned to Kylian.

“Now, did you enjoy that salad, Sir Kylian?” Ennieux asked with a honeyed tone. “If the herbs were to your taste, perhaps come Spring the two of us could take a stroll through the garden pavilion.”

“... The garden pavilion that is clearly visible from half the windows in the keep, Lady Ennieux?” Kylian asked, keeping his tone mild.

“Yes? Pray, does it trouble you?” Ennieux tilted her head.

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

----------------------------------------

The meal continued on, and before long the conversation had progressed—or stalled—into stilted silence.

As poorly as the dinner itself was going, Kylian realized that the evening thus far had been fruitful for their actual purpose: to learn as much as they could about Renea and Sophie before the inquest tomorrow.

Ailn’s needling had been quite effective.

It was remarkable, really, how often brusque manners got them what they needed. Even if Kylian wasn’t convinced it was always the best way to do things, he could hardly complain.

Sophie’s vague answers and generally cagey behavior certainly gave Kylian much to consider—to say nothing of her almost ostentatious lack of affection.

Her standoffish demeanor could of course be the result of a fight between the two, but would she really keep up such pretenses after he was nearly killed? When he was an amnesiac on top of that?

As for Renea, Ailn’s tactlessness was also drawing out what seemed like an honest reaction. Right now, she looked rather depressed.

Ailn, since talking to Sophie, had retreated into his own thoughts. Instead of paying attention to his sister who’d so looked forward to dinner with him, he was most likely contemplating the case. Renea, meanwhile, fretted over bothering him.

It was easy to see she was being considerate of her brother and his condition. What was that if not care?

His sudden quiet turn—after spending so much time asking only about Sophie—had clearly hurt her feelings. The table's atmosphere strained as a result, more than it had at any other point in the evening.

If nothing else, at least the parlor had been lively earlier.

Sophie came back into the room with four bowls of soup on a serving tray.

What was noticeably absent from the serving tray was a bread basket. But at least she actually brought him a spoon.

He sighed with relief. Kylian thought the entire dinner might be a culinary siege against him, but it seemed there was a limit to her pettiness.

Taking a sip of it, however, he frowned.

Nevermind. His was cold.

Ennieux scowled. Hers was clearly cold too, but she said nothing as she took her small sips of soup very nobly.

Ailn’s soup looked cold as well. But that wasn’t much of a surprise.

Rather, only one bowl at the table had steam rising from the top, and its owner averted her eyes with much embarrassment.

Sophie looked as impassive as usual as she left the parlor, not a hint of guilt on her face.

Kylian couldn’t help but feel astonished. He realized now he had little basis for thinking so, but the taciturn attitude Sophie carried herself with had always convinced him she was an exemplary lady-in-waiting. He certainly hadn’t expected her to be—there was no kind way to say this—such a brat.

Renea cleared her throat awkwardly, as she took a sip of her appropriately-heated soup.

“Sophie can have her vindictive moments,” Renea whispered once she was out of earshot. “Please, look past it this once.”

She turned a sheepish smile toward Ailn, the main target of her concern, even as Ennieux rolled her eyes.

Ailn, however, did not respond.

“Ailn?” Renea asked.

“Hm? The soup’s delicious,” Ailn said. “Dinner’s been wonderful so far.”

“...Excellent.” Renea’s smile stayed on, but her gaze drooped softly down to her steaming bowl of soup.

Ennieux again said nothing. Instead she clicked her tongue loud enough that everyone in the room should notice.

Ailn, however, did not notice, and simply kept absentmindedly eating his soup.

“I-It seems Ailn’s been recuperating in his own way, Sir Kylian,” Renea said. “Has this been his manner of behavior since he woke up?”

“His Grace has… given off a different impression to many since the attack,” Kylian said honestly.

“Ah,” Renea said. She looked crestfallen.

Actually, this was the first time he’d been like this. As Kylian knew him now, Ailn was more attentive than anyone he’d ever known. And that attention typically extended far past just his surroundings; at the very least, he certainly knew how to read a room.

But it didn’t take a seasoned socialite to notice the fury with which Ennieux was currently gnashing her teeth. In fact, someone would have to be exceptionally hard of hearing not to notice, considering how loudly she was doing it.

Suddenly, Ailn’s eyes seemed to focus. He’d been so distant, that even this subtle change was striking—his presence in the room increased dramatically, and it was almost as if he’d physically re-entered the parlor.

“Say, when’s the main course coming, anyway?” Ailn asked.

And of course, since he’d been mentally absent from the parlor, he was oblivious to everyone else’s mood.

“It should be here momentarily,” Renea said. She sounded quite gloomy.

“It will arrive when it arrives, Ailn eum-Creid,” Ennieux said icily.

Actually, Kylian had been wondering the same thing for a while now. Just when was that culaïs coming?

Ailn silently took a moment to presumably read the air.

Suddenly, Kylian felt an instinctual feeling of dread. It was true Ailn had the quick wit to quickly discern the emotions at the table. But that wit didn’t always translate to the corresponding consideration and sensitivity.

Sometimes, for whatever reason, he simply didn't care.

“By the way,” Ailn said, holding up his hand and showing a subtle knick across the base of his thumb. “Earlier today, I seemed to have cut myself without realizing it. I was hoping you could heal this for me.”

“Huh? O-oh. Certainly. Why, it does look like a nasty scratch,” Renea said. She fidgeted for a moment, and looked around the room. “It wouldn’t do to have you eat your meal like this…”

“Your sister’s healing power is not a parlor trick, Ailn eum-Creid,” Ennieux’s voice was even icier than before. Ailn just gave a polite smile back, which galled her further.

“Ennieux.” Renea spoke firmly, “It’s fine. Just, um, give me a moment.”

The main course arrived. No one talked, as each guest was served an entire verdant culaïs, with roasted turnips. Except Kylian’s of course, whose cornish hen clearly was clearly missing a drumstick, sliced cleanly off.

It wasn’t much, but the almost imperceptible upturn at the corners of Sophie’s mouth suggested contentment. If anything, she actually looked a little sleepy.

“Let’s just pretend I shared it with her of my own accord,” Kylian muttered. If that’s what it took to mollify the tyrant maid, so be it.

Renea, presumably not wanting to hold up dinner, gathered her focus.

“Alright, let’s get that fixed up shall we?” Renea held her shaking hands over Ailn’s. “Sorry, I got distracted for a moment…”

A white glow hovered over Ailn’s cut. Within a moment, it was healed, leaving not so much as a scar.

“There!” Renea clapped her hands together and smiled brightly. “As good as new.”

“It really is,” Ailn whistled. “It’s almost like a soothing drip of cold water.”

“Yes, the feeling can be quite pleasant,” Renea looked pleased.

Things were cheery between the two siblings, but Ennieux was clearly not happy. She was presumably disinclined to see Ailn’s boorish behavior swept under the rug, and as such she gave a sigh— long, angry, and dramatic.

“Is something wrong, Ennieux?” Renea asked. Her smile strained.

Ennieux glowered at Ailn. “Nothing is wrong. I simply find my nephew’s behavior lately to be in even poorer taste than usual.”

It seemed to Kylian that meant something was wrong, but he kept that to himself.

The modicum of pleasantness that Renea’s act of healing had returned to the parlor was swiftly expelled. Both Ailn and Renea’s smiles strained. Sophie, who looked like she’d been dozing off in the corner, seemed bad-tempered after being roused out of it.

“Please stop, Ennieux,” Renea finally said. “Why do we need to ruin this?”

Ennieux simply rolled her eyes in response, while Kylian wondered how dinner had not been ruined already.

Spoon still in hand, Ennieux rubbed her temple with the back of her palm and sighed yet again.

“I apologize if I’ve done anything to hurt the atmosphere of this dinner,” Ailn said earnestly.

“You should be sorry!” Ennieux jumped on her chance to continue the bone she had to pick. She shook her spoon fiercely at Ailn. “You’ve been treating your sister with an abominably calloused attitude—!”

Her credentials as family mediator were rather dubious, but her tone was right and just. She only stopped herself at Renea’s glare.

In reality, Ennieux was the last woman who should lecture anyone about being considerate—especially since it was Ailn she was lecturing. She had not exactly extended him the same kindness.

But it was true that Ailn’s thoughtlessness had hurt Renea’s feelings more than once today. And Ennieux, hypocrite or not, was not wrong to point that out.

Ailn gave a plaintive sigh.

“It’s just been tough for me ever since the attack,” he said. He paused as if the next thing he said would take courage and vulnerability. “My head is not always in the right place. I find myself rediscovering my old emotions.”

“No, of course,” Renea nodded very earnestly. “I understand. Truly.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, Renea. I’m sorry about that. I truly am.”

Hand over his heart, Ailn’s eyes were dewy with tears and his voice was choked with emotion. So choked with it, in fact, that Kylian couldn’t help but remember what Ailn himself had said earlier in the day:

‘When my head’s in the game, I can put on as good a show as anyone.’

“I never took it badly,” Renea said, though her voice shook a bit. “As long as you’re alive, I’m happy Ailn. I mean it.”

Quick to forgive, this small apology from her brother was evidently enough to restore her optimism. She blinked a bit more than usual, but her smile looked genuinely cheerful despite the wetness in her eyes.

“We can take our time getting back your memories,” she said softly. “And even if… even if they never come back, we can simply build new memories.”

“...Of course.” Ailn smiled warmly.

Ennieux smiled with smug satisfaction at her own superior emotional intelligence. She seemed convinced that Ailn’s extremely conspicuous display of ‘feelings’ was indicative of the sincerity of his apology.

“There. Does that not lighten your heart, Renea?” She daintily forked a turnip. “Why don’t you embrace your sister, Ailn?”

“Oh, he doesn’t have to,” Renea waved her hand awkwardly. “It seems… he’s still uncomfortable with it.”

“Nonsense. He clearly wishes to embrace his sister too,” Ennieux said confidently.

“... Why wouldn’t I?” Ailn’s warm smile continued.

He didn’t refuse, but Kylian could see the awkwardness in his movements as he stood from his chair.

Renea shyly held her arms open, finally able to hug the brother she thought she’d lost. Ailn approached her, kneeling to hug her, and she hugged him happily.

“Huh…?” Still embracing Ailn, Renea’s smile began to quiver.

And all at once it crumpled and vanished, and the young girl pulled away from her brother, pushing him into the table so forcefully it clattered.

There wasn’t any anger on her face. Just a cold, miserable stare.

“Why do you smell like smoke?”