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Damaris doesn’t look too pleased at my request to keep Atlys out, but I need space right now.

“As you wish,” they say, leaving the room in a few quick strides.

Moments later, Nightmare arrives, looking up at me with those adorable teal eyes. He keeps my feet warm with his dark, soft fur. His little nose brushes my ankles as I write a letter to Ramona, Leaf, and Castor assuring them that I’m okay. I leave out the more gruesome details about what happened in the Jord and let them know that I’m safe in Terraguard for now. Nightmare seems more interested in licking my ankles than sending the message, but after a few minutes of coaxing, he’s off.

The next few hours pass quickly as I explore more areas of the room all while Trix continues her sewing between nodding off for naps until she finally leaves with the excuse of grabbing us both dinner. There is a lofted section full of books and soft blankets, a small kitchen area with a kettle for hot water, and washroom complete with a bathtub carved right out of the hot springs themselves.

Trix returns with food just as Nightmare bounds through the stone wall with a note and a small bundle attached to his leg.

Akemi,

So happy to hear from you. I was so worried. No, scratch that, we were all so worried. I’m so sorry I let you walk home from Anita’s alone. Never again.

Atlys was restless while you were away. He told us that you may be in the Jord? Oh fucking Gods, I hope you are okay. I want to know everything… when you are ready. Castor, Leaf, and I were prepared to go down there ourselves, but the Elders caught us and forced us to stay.

Love,

Ramona

PS. Thought you might want these.

Rolling out of the small bundle is the Helios Blessing stone I won in the Summit and my patch of Teller fabric. My lips stretch wide as I hold them tight.

“Trix? Would you be willing to sew something onto this for me?” I hold out the dark green square.

The High Healer’s eyes widen. “That’s a Teller’s patch!”

“How did you know?” My eyebrows shoot up. Trix did say she was human once. Instantly, I’m comforted, just knowing that another person knows the profession well enough to recognize the fabric.

She only gives a knowing smirk. “While actions may determine one's fate, it is the stories that come afterward that determine how long we remember.”

We sit for what feels like hours, eating and chatting about my ideas for the patch. I tell her all about Marrow and how I want to make a patchwork cloak of my own with stories, starting with mine. Trix asks a lot of questions about my life, my time at the Watch. From tending my injuries, she knows enough of what happened in Jord, but if she has any questions, she holds them. Eventually, she takes the patch with her, insisting that she stitch the scene.

A light knock sounds. I walk to the large black door, tracing the woodgrain lightly with my fingertips.

“Can I come in?” a low, powerful timbre I would recognize anywhere asks.

“It depends,” I say. “Are you willing to give me answers?”

“Yes,” he says, and I open the door.

Atlys leans against the door frame in a white tunic, half unbuttoned, and black leather pants. Chain metal necklaces and silver earrings garnish his neck and ears. His hair is tousled, and he looks like he has not slept in days.

He studies every inch of my body, pausing at the slight gap in my robe, with a fierce intensity that sends tingles down my spine despite how frustrated I am with him. He twitches ever so slightly as if to step inside the room before thinking more of it and stopping himself.

“I’m sorry,” he admits, “for not telling you sooner that Rollo is my brother. Truthfully, I like to distance myself as much as possible from his court, but that is no excuse.”

“I understand the need to keep that relationship secret, at least for those not old enough to remember the old Underworld King as his sons. I just didn’t realize the stories about the cruel king was your father. He was used as a way to scare kids into listening.” I pause, thinking just how little I know about Atlys’s family. “I want to know more about you. How you grew up. Your family.”

“I will tell you anything you would like to know,” he says and leans forward, lowering his voice. “Anything you ask of me, I will answer. If that comes in the form of questions or deeds. Both I would gladly provide for you, my Sunrise. Can I come in?”

I tilt my head up, looking him in the eyes for the first time in days. His shoulders are hunched, waiting for my answer.

“You may.”

Atlys steps toward me, but I back away. A look of hurt flashes in his eyes but is soon replaced with understanding of the space I need. We cross the room and settle on the couches by the fire. He pours us both a glass of wine, and I start first with the questioning.

“What happened after I won the Summit? Did you get to negotiate terms with the Treaty?”