I remain in the infirmary the entire afternoon. In fact, I don’t even notice the time passing. Cattleya rests beside me, and through the stone I can hear shouts and ringing steel from below.

  My full awareness only returns when Ulric comes up the stairs, bare chest marked with a handful of fresh bruises.

  “How’s she?” he asks, voice low and considerate.

  Cattleya opens her eyes anyway.

  She pushes herself upright slowly, tail swishing lazily behind her.

  “…Hungry,” she mutters, voice rough.

  Ulric huffs a quiet laugh and sets a hand on each of our shoulders. “How about a meal out tonight? We still have coin from the bounty, so we ought to have something nice before we set out on the road.”

  “Mm,” Cattleya hums, suddenly bright, her tail springing up.

  My gaze lingers on her with an easy smile before I look back to Ulric.

  “Mm,” I echo, mimicking her tone.

  That does it. Ulric breaks into a chuckle.

  “Alright,” he says. “Come on, you two. Let’s head down. Come as you are.”

  As we cross the armory, the fighting is still going on. My gaze crosses with Til’s. He looks like he’s been put through the wringer.

  I lift a hand and give him a small wave.

  Just as I do, I hear a grunt behind me.

  Huh?

  I turn. Cattleya is offering me her usual lazy smile, entirely unbothered.

  I smile back, and we continue down the stairs.

  In the lobby, I spot Veil’s back—he’s facing the wall beside the door. Our steps make his ears perk, and moments later Cinna slips out from his silhouette to greet us, cheeks lightly flushed.

  “Well! Are we ready?” she says quickly, already moving as if she wants to put as much distance as possible between herself and Veil, who remains facing the wall in stubborn silence.

  “C’mere,” Ulric says, scooping Veil close and hauling him along without ceremony. The shorter man goes without protest.

  Our formation has become routine by now. Ulric leads, parting the crowd. Veil stays at his side. Cinna, Cattleya, and I follow behind.

  Everyone seems in good spirits after the training. I catch whispers about a bet—Veil’s voice unmistakable. Cinna’s cheeks redden immediately.

  My chuckle comes easily.

  They’re so cute.

  The tavern we enter is very different from the one Til took me to—less refined, more long tables than intimate corners. The chatter is loud and hearty. The staff wear plain clothes instead of uniforms.

  Ulric orders before we even sit. Looks like this place doesn’t bother with menus.

  We take our seats the way we always do. I feel Cattleya’s tail brush against me as she looks up. A waiter quickly sets down a basket of bread and a plate of dipping sauces.

  She pounces instantly, tearing into a roll. The rest of us follow suit.

  I can’t help but recall yesterday.

  Was he making fun of us?

  Before I can fully chase the thought, my ears perk at a familiar voice nearby.

  “…I cannot predict the outcome of the treatment. I did what I could. The rest is in her hands.”

  My head snaps toward the sound.

  Minnara.

  She stands near the corridor leading to the inn rooms, speaking quietly to someone out of sight.

  She flinches.

  Then she looks straight at me.

  That pressure returns—first from her direction, then around me, like something probing, trying to pull something out of me… or her.

  I tear my gaze away and force myself to eat. A chunk of bread—

  oh. That sauce looks cheesy.

  I dip it and bring it up—

  —and stop.

  She’s right there.

  “Oh—Miss Nura,” Ulric says, startled, a smear of red sauce still clinging to the corner of his mouth.

  She doesn’t respond. Her gaze stays fixed on me.

  I look away. Cheese. Yes. Focus on the cheese.

  Cattleya watches me in silence, concern flickering briefly before she turns her attention to Minnara.

  “…I apologize for intruding on your meal,” Minnara says evenly. Her voice is stripped of emotion. “It would seem we find ourselves in this establishment for unrelated reasons.”

  The statement is… obvious.

  An awkward silence settles as everyone stares at her.

  Then she turns to leave.

  A man intercepts her—elderly, carrying a small basket.

  “Here—take this at least,” he says warmly, already reaching for her hand. “After everything you’ve done… and refusing payment besides—”

  She steps forward, evading his touch.

  “That is not necessary, Mr. Berryhill,” she says flatly.

  She takes another step—then stops. Glances back, as if realizing she’d been too blunt.

  “…Contact me if her condition changes. At all.”

  She doesn’t wait for a reply. She’s already out the door.

  Our attention shifts to the old man. He looks back at us and chuckles softly.

  “Friend? Ah—she’s a fine young lady,” he says. “Awkward with words, sure, but I wouldn’t trust my daughter with anyone else.”

  We laugh politely. He dips his head and leaves us to our meal.

  “It would seem the Nuras do have charitable pursuits after all,” Cinna says, a note of quiet triumph in her voice. “Mm?”

  Veil grunts, focused entirely on his food.

  My gaze drifts back to where Minnara had been standing.

  What was that?

  As I look back to the table, I freeze—meeting Cattleya’s eyes.

  She gives me an easy smile, tail swaying gently side to side.

  I mirror it. We return to our meal.

  …Yeah. I’m thinking too much about it.

  –

  Morning arrives with a sharp knock.

  I jolt upright in bed, heart skipping.

  Right—yesterday. We were out late. Drinking. We ate, and then—

  I sigh, the thought of the mansion and Minnara creeping back in despite myself.

  We went through several pitchers of table wine… didn’t we? Even I drank more than usual. Not enough for a hangover, at least.

  Then I glance down—and pause.

  Ah. There she is.

  Cattleya sleeps peacefully at the foot of my bed, arms wrapped around my tail like it might disappear if she lets go.

  I extend a single finger, and press it squarely into the center of her forehead.

  Slowly. Firmly.

  She tips backward with a soft thump, landing on the floor in a confused tangle of limbs. My tail is freed.

  She blinks awake, clearly unsure how she got there.

  I open the door.

  “Good afternoon, Imone,” Cinna says gently. “We really do need to go out today—we’re buying supplies for the trip, remember?”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  I gasp.

  “Cat. Clothes. Change. Go.”

  I punctuate each word with a sharp point and dash for my desk, scrambling to make myself presentable.

  I don’t need to look back. I hear Cattleya’s panicked footsteps retreating, followed by Cinna’s soft chuckle as she closes the door.

  —

  Vellaris is warm today. Hot, even.

  We leave Veil and Ulric to handle the practical things—rations, bedrolls, the unglamorous work.

  As for the three of us…

  “Thanks, Ci,” I say, balancing a small basket of toiletries in my hands—soap, shampoo, makeup, a few personal things, all sized carefully for travel. “Trying to find all this on my own would’ve taken ages. I still have no idea where anything is in this city.”

  She walks just behind me, carrying a similar haul.

  “What else do you need?” she asks. “I know what happened with your armor. I’ve arranged an appointment with an acquaintance in the east end—I’m sure you’ll find something that speaks to you there.”

  Cattleya drifts in behind Cinna. I twist slightly to glance at her basket—not as full as ours, but still thoughtfully stocked. She takes care of herself.

  “Oh—right. A notebook,” I add suddenly. “And I love the fountain pen you got me. So much better than the quills I used back at the Lyceum. It must’ve been expensive, right?”

  My enthusiasm slips out before I can stop it.

  Cinna gives me a mischievous smile, clearly enjoying this, before glancing aside toward Cattleya.

  I follow her gaze.

  Cattleya is smiling—bright, proud. My cheeks warm immediately.

  “…Was it from you, Cat?”

  She doesn’t answer. Just holds that easy, relaxed smile she always does.

  “Ulric assembled the furniture,” Cinna says lightly. “Veil helped clean—and made the lemon bars. I selected a few tomes I thought might improve your… mood.”

  A faint flush colors her cheeks.

  “Cattleya returned with a stack of blank paper and that pen.”

  We reach the cashier. Cinna steps forward to pay—looks like the bounty prize is still holding strong.

  Outside, we huddle close as we navigate the crowded streets. Cinna leads, the two of us behind her, hands resting on her shoulders.

  “…Thanks, Cat,” I murmur, glancing sideways.

  “For the pen. For…” I trail off, searching. “…everything.”

  “Mm,” she hums happily, walking close at my side. Her tail brushes against me, swaying with quiet contentment.

  I can feel Cinna’s suppressed laughter through my hands, even as she tries very hard to remain composed.

  We move slowly—much slower without Ulric—but it’s nice. It’s warm. We’re sweating, the sun feels like it might cook my brain, but…

  I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

  Eventually, we leave the main street and slip into a narrow alley. An unassuming staircase leads up to a second-floor shop.

  Inside—

  Armor. Robes. Full plate.

  This place isn’t built for practicality alone—it’s built for style. Reinforced frilled dresses. Elegant leather armor. Heavy plate shaped to accentuate curves rather than hide them.

  Cattleya and I drift away in opposite directions, drawn by different pieces. Cinna just chuckles.

  “Take your time,” she says. “I’ll go pay my respects to the owner. She’s helped me a great deal.”

  “Mm,” Cattleya hums cheerfully. I echo it without thinking.

  My eyes lock onto an embroidered leather set—wine red with gold accents, stars and abstract runes worked delicately into the surface. It’s form-fitting, but looks flexible, even if the pants are… a little tight.

  The price tag makes my heart sink.

  I don’t think I’ve ever owned something worth this much.

  Mooncalf leather. Enchanted, no doubt.

  I browse a little longer, apprehension creeping in with every glance.

  …Why did Cinna bring me here? Is she secretly rich—or just assuming I can afford this?

  There were stalls outside. I could slip out and buy something simple.

  I wobble toward the exit.

  My gaze drifts to Cattleya nearby. She looks so happy—how many sets is she planning to try on?

  I chuckle quietly. I wonder if she’s noticed the prices yet.

  I turn back toward the door—

  It’s open.

  Braids.

  Magenta eyes.

  Minnara?

  What?

  Here? Again?

  Why?

  She looks at me with that same mounting pressure, like she’s trying to reach something in me. Her expression is sharp—serious.

  I flinch and take several steps back.

  Minnara closes her eyes.

  Then she steps aside, moving deeper into the store, as if none of it happened. As if it were all in my head.

  My gaze follows her before I can stop myself.

  I don’t even notice Cattleya pressing an outfit against my chest.

  “Imo, look!” she says, bright with excitement.

  I glance down, hands idly clutching the fabric she’s offered me.

  A skirt? The chest armor is simpler than I expected—elegant, undecorated—but the back is bare. The shoulders too…

  My gaze flicks from the outfit to Cattleya. Her pupils are blown wide, tail swishing eagerly.

  “Did you take a look at—” My voice trails off.

  The thought of disappointing her tugs painfully at my chest.

  “I’ll go try it on,” I say instead, tilting my head with an easy smile.

  “Mm!” she hums, delighted, immediately linking her arm with mine as she pulls me toward the dressing rooms. She releases me at the first open stall and continues on to the next.

  I slip inside.

  Before the mirror, I let the outfit unfurl completely.

  It’s a bit… much, isn’t it? Would anyone take me seriously wearing this?

  My thoughts drift back to Cattleya’s excited smile.

  Well… I wasn’t the one who picked it. Technically.

  So that makes it better. Right?

  Thinking too much.

  I sigh and start undressing, folding my clothes neatly on the bench.

  The outfit is… surprisingly nice. The top is a little tight, and the open collar isn’t something I would’ve chosen. The exposed back feels breezy—having my shoulders bare in a combat outfit is strange—but the sleeves…

  I mimic a slow sword strike.

  They’re excellent. Tight at the wrists, loose at the joints.

  I shuffle in place and make a sharp turn, watching the fabric move.

  It isn’t bad. A half-skirt with trousers beneath—soft, flowing, elegant without being restrictive.

  And then—

  Someone slips into the changing room.

  I whirl around, startled.

  “Minnara?” I whisper.

  “Why are you ignoring me?” she asks flatly.

  “What—what do you mean? We’re talking right now. What are you doing here?”

  She steps closer, as if I’m not the person standing in front of her. Her gaze sinks into mine—past skin, past breath.

  I gasp.

  Her magenta pupils fade, the color draining away until they glow a soft, luminous silver.

  She looks… broken.

  Her hands clutch my shoulders.

  “Please,” she says—and her voice trembles with a level of emotion I’ve never heard from her before. “Answer me.”

  “Who are yo—” The question slips out in stunned awe, but—

  “Imo?” Cattleya calls from outside.

  Reality snaps back into place.

  Right. The shop.

  I look at Minnara again. Her eyes have returned to their usual magenta. She looks away, something like shame tightening her expression.

  My own softens, just a little.

  I slide the curtain aside and step out.

  “Sorry, Cat,” I say lightly. “I had trouble with the zipper, so Minnara helped me.”

  I laugh—a lie, obvious and deliberate, and somehow necessary.

  “Why didn’t you call me?” Cattleya pouts, then squints. “…What zipper?”

  I freeze.

  Then I spot Cinna approaching with a woman beside her.

  I lift a hand in greeting. Cattleya grumbles but lets it go.

  “Cattleya, Imone—apologies for the delay,” Cinna says. “Allow me to introduce one of my benefactors. Lady Reuenthal.”

  She steps aside. The woman smiles warmly.

  “Please, no need for ‘Lady.’” Her gaze shifts—and she blinks. “Ah? Miss Minnara?”

  She approaches with a neatly wrapped package in hand. Minnara still stands inside the stall, staring at the wall.

  “Here’s your order,” the woman says kindly. “Please give your father and uncle my warmest regards.”

  Minnara takes the package. She looks at me—briefly. This time, there’s no pressure.

  “…Appreciated,” she murmurs.

  Then she turns and leaves in a rush, as though putting distance between us as quickly as possible.

  Cinna watches her go, disbelief flickering across her face—but before I can process it, Lady Reuenthal’s hands are already settling on my shoulders.

  “Ah,” she chuckles. “This takes me back. One of my earliest designs. What do you think? Easy to move in?”

  I nod. Honestly? Yes.

  She moves on to Cattleya, and I finally take a proper look at her outfit.

  Of course she picked a jacket.

  Leather, reinforced with hidden metal plates. Stylish. Heavy, probably. The whole ensemble looks like something a bodyguard would wear—if bodyguards wore shorts and thigh-high boots.

  “It suits you,” I say quietly.

  Her tail flicks, thrilled.

  “Imo too.” she replies.

  I slowly turn back to the shopkeeper with an apologetic smile.

  “It was nice trying these on,” I say with a nervous laugh. “But there’s no way I can afford anything in here.”

  The woman looks surprised—then glances at Cinna.

  “You didn’t tell them?”

  Cinna steps forward. “It’s a long story. Years ago, the Valiants helped her wife. She offered us discounts—and has honored them ever since.”

  Lady Reuenthal turns back to me, smiling warmly.

  “And for two cuties like you?” she says. “Especially when you picked one of my favorite pieces? Obligation doesn’t enter my mind at all.”

  I didn’t even need to spend a single coin. The bounty covered everything—how much was that guy worth, anyway?

  Night has already fallen by the time we reach the streets again. The usual rush has thinned, the city settling into something quieter. Each of us carries a sizable package—even Cinna. I didn’t even see what she picked out.

  I exhale and close my eyes.

  I forgot to buy a notebook. And it’s late now—not that I’ll have much time to write while guarding a caravan. I suppose I can make do with one of the books Cinna gave me instead.

  The walk back is long but calm. We stick to the main streets, well lit and regularly patrolled. Lanterns sway as guards pass by, their flickering light announcing their presence before we ever see them.

  At the tower, we stop on Cinna’s floor.

  “Bright and early, all right?” she says firmly as she peels away from us.

  “Mm!” Cattleya answers with enthusiasm.

  I smirk and take the opportunity to nudge her.

  “What—are you saying you’ll wake up on your own this time?” I tease.

  She doesn’t even hesitate. Her smile stays bright.

  “I don’t need to. Imo will wake me up.”

  …How can a single line make me feel both happy and annoyed at the same time?

  I muse on that, cheeks warming, as I unlock the door to my—

  She slips inside the moment it opens, throwing herself onto the sofa. Her pack lands on the floor with a dull thump.

  …Our room, I guess.

  I sigh and pick up her package. Heavier than mine, like I suspected—but not that heavy. Huh.

  I set it beside my own on the dresser, then move to the window and pull the curtains as wide as they’ll go.

  I stare out.

  Vellaris.

  It hasn’t been long since I arrived, and already I’m about to spend a good while away from my new—

  “Home.”

  I say the word aloud. My chest warms at the sound of it.

  I glance back at Cattleya. She’s already asleep, curled on the sofa, hugging her tail like a pillow—just like always.

  Yeah…

  My gaze drifts downward, imagining the others below us—settled into their rooms, asleep.

  Home.