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The warm glow of the candles positioned around the room accentuated the deep green mosaic backsplash. Rymedur noted that the owners had a taste similar to Areanel’s. Green was her favourite colour, too.

An aroma of spices worked in harmony, filling the air and making Rymedur’s mouth water at the thought of all the different baked goods he could make with a kitchen like this.

A well-worn cutting board, witness to countless meals made with love and care, had been left on the side alongside half-cut vegetables. The scent of a delicious meal floated through the air, filling his nostrils. On the other side was a bar table that acted as a partition between the kitchen and living area.

But none of this was what took Rymedur by surprise. It was the sounds coming from the living area, lewd and loud. Was that grunting?

And no doubt, from the mixture of grunts and moans, it was clear what activities the inhabitants of this home were up to at this hour. And they had just let themselves in! Rymedur understood that these may be Areanel’s friends, but to enter uninvited and out of the blue… Rymedur did not want to imagine the looks on their faces. This wasn’t at all how he had thought he would meet the rest of her cadre.

Over the years, Rymedur had seen the cadre only a handful of times—mostly from a distance or in passing, and never face to face. He had only ever truly met Ryyen. And he wasn’t sure why.

Rymedur glanced at Areanel, not expecting her complete nonchalance. She seemed to hardly notice or care about the sounds echoing throughout the home.

In fact, Rymedur watched as she opened a cupboard below the bar and helped herself to a bottle of wine. Uncorking it with a curved blade, Areanel drank straight from the neck before offering it to him.

Baffled. Rymedur was completely and utterly baffled by her behaviour. Did she not hear what was going on in the next room? Mouth agape like a fish out of water, he started to say something before closing his mouth again, unable to form words.

Areanel tipped her head back, bellowing through the partition, ‘Have you finished, Vas?’ Pulling herself up onto the countertop, she leaned back on one hand and crossed her legs, once again raising the bottle to her lips, taking a large swig of wine.

There was a shriek and a clatter in the next room. Clearly, the occupants had been caught off guard by them, and Rymedur wondered how many times this had happened.

With a rustling of clothes and raised voices, Rymedur pinpointed someone coming towards them, muttering profanities and curses.

Rymedur’s hand itched to grab his scythe and position himself between Areanel and whoever was coming. Would they try to attack? They were intruders, after all. They had every right… But the easy smile and way Areanel kicked her legs back and forth made her seem comfortable. Maybe he didn’t have to worry.

Slam. The door swung open to their far right, and before anyone entered, a voice shouted, ‘What in the actual name of the fucking gods are you doing in my kitchen? And when did you bloody get here?’

Rymedur made out a head of short, bright, unruly red hair as a male emerged from the living area. An elf—Rymedur noted the pointed ears. Though… he was much shorter than any male he had seen; even shorter than Areanel! Unusual.

The ends of his fiery hair stuck up, dishevelled, making it appear as though it had been set aflame. Where had he seen that hue before? It seemed so familiar, but he couldn’t pinpoint it. The elf’s clothes, thrown on haphazardly, were buttoned wrong, causing them to slip from one shoulder. A scowl etched his full lips as he snarled at Areanel—though Rymedur couldn’t tell if it was genuine. ‘You ought to be ashamed of yourself, walking into someone’s home unannounced. How uncouth!’

Rymedur stepped closer to Areanel as the male strode up, glaring when she jumped down from the counter. The red-haired male looked like any other elf, with a slender, athletic figure and a sharp, angular face. But again, that unusual height niggled at Rymedur. He came up to Areanel’s shoulders—a rare sight to see in Andrea.

‘Oh please, Vasilio.’ Areanel said the name like it was something acrid, but her mocking smile said that she was joking. She moved into the male’s space, crowding him. ‘You of all people cannot complain of ill manners.’ Flicking the end of Vasilio’s nose earned her a growl that rumbled from his chest.

The way Vasilio clenched his teeth and sneered in her face had Rymedur’s fingers inching towards the knife sheathed at his thigh. ‘You know, if you weren’t a prissy princess, I could turn you into a pig.’ The male emphasised, snapping his fingers and making the wine bottle Areanel held disappear.

Point made, Rymedur thought, hand resting near the blade. Weren’t these supposed to be her friends? Yet, the male was acting hostile.

Areanel was like a panther—swift, as she launched herself, pushing Vasilio into the kitchen island he stood beside. ‘You ass! I was drinking that—ow!’

She was cut off as Vasilio grabbed the front of her tunic and locked his arm around her neck. Damn. He may be half her size, but he was fast! Rymedur palmed the blade in his hand, ready to use it, but when Vasilio did nothing other than playfully ruffle her hair, he found himself hesitating.

‘Vas, stop!’ Areanel’s hand came up to whack at the male’s arm in good nature, drowning the kitchen in the sounds of Vasilio’s bellowing laughter and Areanel’s joyful jibes. The scene made Rymedur’s heart swell. It reminded him of how his children were with one another. This was love between siblings—yet, Vasilio and Areanel did not share a drop of blood.

Which brought forth a thought: why had it taken Rymedur this long to meet Vasilio properly?

Footsteps grew louder, and their buoyant reunion came to an end. Allowing Areanel to straighten, Vasilio turned his back and faced the door.

This second male took up the entire doorway, and again, Rymedur felt a spark of recognition he could not place. The male was large—much larger than Rymedur—and strongly built, with long braided hair and a dark, closely cropped beard. Wait. No. Rymedur misspoke. Because this was not a male, but a man… like him. Too large, too muscled—and the scars that peppered his skin were a portrait of all the battles he had been in, which had not healed over.

There was only one man in all of Andrea who was similar to Rymedur, who had the same rounded ears. And who had, by all odds, climbed the ranks despite being low-born. He was infamous. This had to be Areanel’s second in command, the famous, bloodthirsty warrior of Andrea, whom Rymedur now remembered he’d met the day of his wedding. This was Brutus. As he came closer, Rymedur noted that his eyes were rather different. They had seemed like deep, dark pools two decades ago.

Brutus sauntered in, fastening the ties on his trousers. ‘General.’ He nodded through lowered lashes. A sign of respect.

Rymedur was surprised to see Areanel return the gesture. Rymedur could count on one hand the number of people for whom Areanel had ever lowered her head. ‘Brutus,’ Areanel addressed the male, confirming Rymedur’s suspicions. ‘Glad you could join us.’

The large, genuine smile that brightened her features had Rymedur transfixed. These weren’t just her friends; they were her family. The one she had chosen.