A pause.
Then, dreamlike and without warning, she mumbled, “Don’t make me wear shoes.”
Thessia made a stunned sound—half scoff, half breath. “What?”
But Kailorien only smiled. “She does that too.”
He shifted her weight in his arms, tucking her closer.
“Don’t tell Zarrek,” he muttered under his breath. “He’s insufferable as is.”
Thessia gave a small, incredulous laugh. “Stars preserve me,” she murmured. “You’regone.”
Carrying Auryn to the cot, he knelt and lowered her with careful precision. As he moved to draw the blanket over her, fingers caught at the collar of his tunic—insistent even in sleep.
She wouldn’t let go.
He paused, staring down at the pale curve of her hand against the black of his armor. He uncurled her fingers one by one, tucking her hand beneath the blanket then lifting it to kiss the inside of her wrist. A silent promise. She sighed in her sleep and turned toward him.
He stood and was not prepared to look at Thessia. Not yet. He just watched the rhythm of Auryn’s breath, the way her hand pressed near the curve of her jaw, as if still cradling something in sleep. The comfort of her presence surrounded him, beckoning.
But duty lingered at the edge of the tent.
He straightened his shoulders, turned toward Thessia, and commanded: “Report.”
She exhaled. Shifted her stance.
“Varkhound sightings are increasing. Packs three times the usual size. My scouts say the larger ones are starting to move with purpose.” She folded her arms. “There’s something stirring them. We haven’t seen fresh rift blooms, but the land’s acting like it expects one.”
He nodded. “You saw signs near the Wette?”
“Northwestern edge. We’ll lose travel paths if it spreads. Even the trade caravans are pulling out. Most of the outlying villages have shut their gates, even to merchants. Fear’s eating the region alive.”
“Then we stop there and end it.”
“Agreed. We can stop the tear and clear a path through the swamps. Then we don’t need to worry about an attack if a wheel gets stuck.”
She paused.
“Figured you should know. There’s a new problem in Maradryn.”
Resh tensed, sitting down at his work desk and leaning on his elbow. “Name?”
“Moragrim Vel,” Thessia replied, voice flat. “Claims ties to Krystopolis and the Sovereign Flame. Says the Crystal City has granted him divine right to rule.”
His lip curled. “He lies.”
“I know. But his people believe him. And he’s making things...messy.”
“And you expect me to—” he gestured vaguely.
“You may raze the city to correct him,” she offered.
“Already did that a few decades back with the last upstart,” Resh muttered. “City still hasn’t been fully rebuilt.”
Thessia let out a small snort. “What, is conquest in the name of Doctrine no longer part of your duty?”
“I’m occupied,” he said.
