The journey to Archivist’s Peak was, in Seraphina’s mind, a long-overdue academic pilgrimage. She was currently obsessed with the Codex of the First Founders, a series of ancient, fragile texts kept in a mountain monastery that held the secrets of early medicinal alchemy. To her, this was a quiet errand of ink and paper.

  To Tobias, it was a tactical escort.

  "Master Tobias," Seraphina said, leaning out of the carriage window as they rattled along a mountain pass. "Do you see that ridge? The monastery is just beyond it. We should be there by nightfall if we don't stop for another tactical perimeter check."

  Tobias didn't turn around. He was busy watching the way the birds were flitting nervously in the trees—a sign of movement in the brush. "We stop when I say the ground is clear, Lady Seraphina. Your books aren't going anywhere. They've been there for four hundred years; they can wait another twenty minutes."

  Seraphina climbed out of the carriage door while it was still moving at a slow crawl and hoisted herself up onto the bench beside him. She was wearing her thick travel spectacles and clutching a heavy satchel of blank parchment.

  Tobias stiffened, his hand reflexively moving toward the hilt of his short sword. "It is safer inside."

  "It is dusty inside," she countered, adjusting her glasses. She looked at him—really looked at him—noticing the way his jaw was set like granite. "You are very tense, Tobias. Is the road truly so dangerous, or are you simply unaccustomed to traveling with someone who talks back?"

  Tobias glanced at her. Her golden-brown eyes were filled with a gentle, curious light. She wasn't looking for a threat; she was looking at him. He looked away quickly. "The road is always dangerous."

  They arrived at the monastery just as the sun dipped below the jagged peaks. While Tobias immediately went to speak with the monks about the security of the stables and the layout of the guest quarters, Seraphina was already in the basement archives.

  Hours later, Tobias found her. The archive was a cold, damp stone room lit only by a few flickering candles. Seraphina was sitting on a tiny wooden stool, hunched over a massive, crumbling tome. She looked small amidst the towering shelves of forgotten history.

  "The monks said the evening meal is served," Tobias said, his voice echoing in the silent room.

  "Look at this, Tobias," she whispered, her voice full of wonder. She didn't look up. "This isn't just a ledger. It’s a map of the ancient trade winds and the migration of the Lunar Lily—the very flower Lyra needs for her most complex sedative."

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  Tobias walked over, standing behind her. The scent of old paper and beeswax clung to her. He looked down at the delicate, hand-painted illustrations.

  "I cannot read the text," Tobias admitted, his voice low. "But I know that flower. It grows on the north face of the Black Crags. It’s difficult to harvest. The soil is loose."

  Seraphina turned on her stool, her face inches from his. The candlelight danced in her eyes. "You know it? Truly?"

  "I’ve spent my life in the wild, Lady Seraphina. I know the plants that heal and the ones that kill. I just didn't know they had such... fancy names in your books."

  Seraphina laughed, a soft, musical sound that seemed to warm the cold stone room. "You are a living archive, Tobias. I spend my life reading about things you have actually touched."

  She reached out, her fingers stained with ink, and tentatively touched his sleeve. "Thank you for bringing me here. I know you'd rather be at the palace, but this... this matters too."

  The next morning, they began their descent back toward the valley, Seraphina’s satchel heavy with new transcriptions. She was humming a small tune, perfectly content and completely unaware that they were being watched.

  Tobias, however, knew.

  Suddenly, he pulled the horses to a sharp halt. The carriage lurched.

  "What is it? Did I drop a scroll?" Seraphina asked, peering over the side.

  "Stay inside. Lock the door," Tobias commanded, his voice dropping into that terrifying, flat tone he used when a threat was imminent.

  Three men stepped out from behind the boulders. They weren't soldiers; they were mountain bandits—rough, desperate men looking for easy prey. One of them leveled a rusted spear at Tobias.

  "Leave the horses and the girl's jewelry," the leader growled. "And maybe you'll walk home."

  Seraphina’s head popped out of the window. "Jewelry? I don't have jewelry! I have ink, three charcoal pencils, and a very expensive copy of the Third Era Tax Codes. Do you want the tax codes? They're very boring."

  "Seraphina! Inside!" Tobias roared.

  As the bandits moved forward, Tobias didn't just defend; he became a blur of dark leather and cold steel. He wasn't just a guard; he was a protector who had been denied the chance to protect Lyra, and he was taking all that frustration out on these men.

  Seraphina watched from the window, her heart racing. She didn't see a "shadow" anymore. She saw a man of incredible, terrifying grace.

  Within minutes, the bandits were disarmed and fleeing into the woods. Tobias stood in the road, breathing hard, his eyes still dark with the adrenaline of the fight. He turned to the carriage, his face softening the moment he saw her.

  "Are you harmed?" he asked, walking to the window.

  Seraphina stared at him, her spectacles slightly lopsided. She didn't look scared; she looked mesmerized. "Tobias... you just fought three men with a... with a wheel-block and a short-sword."

  "It was a tactical necessity," he said, repeating the phrase Lyra often used, though it sounded different coming from him.

  Seraphina climbed out of the carriage and, without thinking, threw her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest. "Thank you," she whispered.

  Tobias froze. His arms hung at his sides for a moment before he slowly, tentatively, rested one large hand on her back. "It is my duty, Seraphina."

  "No," she said, pulling back to look at him. "It’s more than that. And I think... I think I’m going to need a lot more 'tactical' assistance in the future."