She let the quiet sit a moment longer, watching as another cloud blew past the peak of the tower.
“So…what were you doing out here anyway?” she asked, her voice casual as her fingers lifted to count. One. Two. Three. “Chasing that monster of a snake?”
For once, Kazuma said nothing.
She reached seven, then eight. “Have it your way.” Her shoulders rose in a shrug as she kept counting, eyes flicking from one cloud to the next.
Thirteen.
“She’s not a monster.”
“Oh?” Aimee’s brows arched. Her eyes stayed fixed on the sky, but her fingers tensed in the grass, tugging at a blade until it broke away. “Oh!”
It’s none of your business.She swallowed, then turned her head, nose wrinkling.
“Well…” She’d seen stranger pairings when shifters were involved. And Kazuma…well. The way he moved. That tongue. “I see.”
“What?” The word snapped out of him.
His arms flexed against the bindings as he strained to turn his head toward her. The effort cost him, but he kept twisting until he could see her expression.
“What—no. Not like that.” Then his eyes widened. “Great elements, woman. What kind of…”
He blinked, brow furrowing deep as his mouth opened, closed again, and finally settled into a line that twitched at the corners.
“It was research. For the war.” He sounded almost offended. “The logistics would be…impossible.”
But his voice dipped slower on the last words, and his mouth stretched into a wide grin.
“Though I must say I’m intrigued by how you got there. Your mind must be absolutely…filthy.”
She didn’t answer, grin fading from her lips.
War.
She’d barely heard anything after that. The word rang through her like a struck bell, clear and cold.
“Tell me about this war.” Snake fucking and clouds forgotten.
Kazuma’s eyes narrowed as he studied her, searching, before turning toward the sky.
“Well…”
A pause.
“What’s there to tell?” He exhaled slowly. “Everyone knows the lull won’t hold. The Havens will be at each other’s throats again soon enough, sending their younglings to die for grievances no one remembers and advantages none of them understand.” His voice thinned at the end. Not quiet, just worn.
Aimee kept her face unmoving, but her thoughts moved fast.
Havens. That made it plural—probably political. Factions, maybe.She filed it away, just more pieces she didn’t have yet.
“Are you unaligned?” he asked. “You bear no Haven marker.”
He lifted one hand as far as the ropes allowed and grazed two fingers along the cuff of his sleeve, where a stylized flame was stitched in faded thread.
“You haven’t used Mana in the last two days. Not even on the climb. But you move like a shinobi.”
Mana. Another new rule in this world, probably magic-shaped. Something else she didn’t understand but needed to pretend she did.
