Vestella's words settled over the table like an unwelcome chill.

  "An alliance?" Cheyin said, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. The laughter faded as everyone turned their attention to the two girls, sensing the gravity of the conversation. "You think we can just unite forces over shared appetizers and fried dough?"

  "Of course not," Vestella replied. "But if we are to navigate the complexities of our current situation, it is best we acknowledge the strength in joining our resources. Your father's presence in the northern Orun zone is no mere coincidence, and we will face challenges greater than those posed by our individual factions."

  Idalia, still with a bite of food halfway to her mouth, momentarily froze, her mind racing with the implications of Vestella's proposal. She exchanged glances with Kelix and Rhaya, who seemed equally taken aback. Cheyin's expression turned contemplative, no longer just a game of banter but a serious negotiation.

  "You're asking me to consider a partnership with you," Cheyin said, and as she leaned back in her seat, Idalia could see her weighing the decision behind Vestella's call for alliance. "Do you really believe that the fruits of collaboration outweigh the consequences of betrayal?"

  "Trust is a difficult commodity, I know," Vestella said. "But look around you, Cheyin. This gathering—while chaotic—is a demonstration of our potential. Each of us brings something to the table, and if we work together, we might be able to leverage our collective strengths against greater foes."

  Lief, who had been quietly finishing his bowl of noodles, finally spoke up. "And what would this alliance look like? Would we simply overlook past grievances? Because neither of your houses have a history of collaboration."

  Rhaya nodded in agreement. "The risk of betrayal could be our undoing. Alliances forged in desperation often crumble under the weight of mistrust."

  Cheyin remained silent, her gaze locked onto Vestella as if she were trying to decipher a puzzle. Finally, her lips curled into that familiar teasing smirk. "You make a compelling argument, but I must admit, I thrive on chaos. It's not in my nature to play nice."

  "Then let's create a little chaos!" Idalia chirped. "I'm upping the stakes for our duel tomorrow. If I win, you join Vest in her efforts to face off against Soreine and your dad's army!"

  She gave the statement some thought, then continued, "Weren't you fighting against your father anyway? I mean, you stole a bunch of his ships, stole some of his beasts, wrecked a good chunk of his army, and then escaped with that handful. You know the rumors, yeah? What harm is there in joining hands with Vestella?"

  All eyes turned to Cheyin as the girl twirled a strand of green hair around her finger. She giggled, but quickly adjusted her posture.

  "Those… weren't my proudest moments. But what guarantees do you offer, Vestella?" Her eyes shifted. "My father reigns over an empire that dwarfs your petty army. If I am to deliver soldiers and supplies to your cause, what do I gain? You don't even have the backing of your own country, do you? Do you intend for my men to bleed for your chance to prove yourself before your clan?"

  Vestella met Cheyin's gaze, unflinching despite the weight of her words. "I ask for your aid not just for my people, but for your own. Your father may hold power, but he is blinded by ambition and tradition. Together, we could challenge his reign, not merely survive it. If you choose to ally with me, we will create a front that could rival his. There's more at stake here than personal glory or territory; it's the future of our lands."

  Cheyin raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but still skeptical. "You make it sound so grand. But enough talk—what if you lose? What if it doesn't work out and all you've done is risk my men in your little game of rebellion?"

  The silence weighed heavily at their table, interrupted only by the clinking of dishware and the chatter of nearby diners. Idalia felt a knot form in her stomach as the ideas exchanged hung in the air, each word a potential trap or an opening. She glanced nervously at the others, hoping they could see the potential behind Vestella's proposition.

  "Cheyin," Rhaya interjected. "What if we postponed the duel? We're all aware of our respective skills; I have no doubt you can handle yourself. However, if we truly wish to strategize against a common enemy, it would be foolish to act too hastily."

  Lief nodded, his tone thoughtful. "A truce, at least while we explore the possibility of this alliance. Let's gather intel, side by side, and then make a decision."

  The prospect of a truce hung in the air like an unanswered question, and for a moment, Cheyin's smirk faltered as she weighed her options. The music from the corner faded into the background, replaced by the pounding of Idalia's heart. Would Cheyin stand firm against the unity they were trying to forge, or could they convince her to take a leap of faith?

  With a flick of her wrist, Cheyin's hair cascaded down like spilled ink, as if the act visualized her indecision. "Alright, then. I'm intrigued. But only under one condition: if we're to cooperate, I want my own interests protected. You may be after my father's downfall, but I'm no pawn in anyone's game."

  "Deal," Vestella said.

  The conversation about the truce and alliance ended when the waiter returned with trays brimming with colorful food. Idalia munched on her meal, her thoughts drifting from duels to joining forces and the looming battle ahead.

  When everyone finished, the group headed out of the restaurant, but didn't separate. Instead, they were suspiciously heading toward the same destination. Idalia noticed they were making their way toward the Upper Stratum of Verdantine. The stars twinkled steadily and nostalgically in the dusk, and the ascending walkway led them to a massive tree in the elven city's luxurious district.

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  "Braunches… must have booked us the same location," Rhaya said.

  Cheyin bit her bottom lip, annoyance in her eyes as she glanced at Vestella. "What does he intend to happen by us sharing the same residence? Despite all that wisdom in his noggin, shouldn't he know that a trigger might find the place collapsed by the end of the night."

  Lief swallowed. "Please don't. Master Braunches must have a very good reason. Perhaps to work out peace. Just tolerate each other for one evening."

  Bouncing on her toes, Idalia bounded forward. "We get to sleep in a tree! Let's go!"

  Ahead loomed the carved tower. It was no tree, but a hotel. The concept of a hotel didn't make sense to Idalia, but the way Lief and Vestella described it was that it could be seen as a temporary dwelling. To her monster mind, that sounded like claiming a cave for yourself, except you had to pay to live in it for a certain number of days.

  That sounded ridiculous. If you found a cave, it was yours until something chased you out. That was how things worked in the wild. Still, she accepted their explanations when everyone told her that if she behaved, she'd receive food and service in exchange for payment, whatever that was.

  The group approached and entered the building. There was a metallic object on the desk, and when Lief tapped it, a sweet chime rang through the air.

  The chime rang like a polite bird trapped inside a bell.

  Idalia blinked at the metallic object on the desk, then leaned in and sniffed it. It smelled like touched hands, polished brass, and a faint trace of lemon oil. Not food, but not offensive either. Verdantine kept making things that were shiny and behaved.

  Behind the desk stood an elf with hair pinned up in a style that reminded Idalia of braided vines. His ears were long, his posture was longer, and his smile had the careful patience of someone who had watched rich people argue about pillows for centuries.

  "Welcome," he said, voice smooth as warm sap. His gaze drifted past Lief to the cluster of them, then paused on Idalia. The smile did not leave. It simply tightened, like it was being held in place by training. "And welcome to... all of you."

  Idalia perked up. "Hi."

  The elf's eyes flicked to Doro. Doro blinked back, then sneezed, spraying a puff of warm breath into the cold lobby air. The elf did not flinch. That was impressive.

  The lobby itself did not look like a cave. Idalia had hoped for a cave. It looked like a tree had decided to pretend it was a palace.

  The floor was smooth rootstone, pale and veined with crystal that glowed softly underfoot like tiny trapped stars. Pillars rose in spirals, carved to resemble living trunks, but they were too perfect to be real. Everything smelled faintly of resin and winter herbs, with a distant thread of baked sugar from somewhere deeper in the building.

  And there were plants. Everywhere. Not wild plants. Proper plants. Plants that looked as if they had been told to stand in certain corners and behave.

  Idalia eyed a fern in a pot. The fern did not blink. She respected that.

  Lief approached the desk with the air of a person trying not to get arrested by furniture. "We have reservations under Braunches," he said quickly. "Master Braunches."

  The elf's expression shifted into something like reverence. "Ah. Yes. Lord Braunches. Of course." He pulled a small wooden ledger from beneath the desk. It was not paper-bound. It was grown into a neat rectangle, as if someone had coaxed a tree into becoming organized. He ran his finger across the surface, and script lit up like fireflies.

  Idalia watched the letters move. They looked like tiny worms of light.

  Idalia's stomach rumbled loudly.

  Everyone heard it.

  The elf blinked once, still smiling. "We do offer a late-night tea service."

  "Tea is not meat," Idalia informed him.

  The smile wobbled.

  Lief made a pleading sound. "She is adjusting."

  Idalia leaned closer to the desk. "Do you have rocks?"

  The elf's smile steadied again. "We have decorative stones."

  "Good," Idalia said, pleased. "I will not eat your chairs."

  Cheyin let out a short laugh that sounded like she was trying not to. "I give it ten minutes."

  The elf cleared his throat. "You are assigned to the Tide-Suite level, as requested." His fingers flicked, and a cluster of seed-pods slid out from a drawer like obedient beetles. They were small, oval, and glossy, each one stamped with a rune that pulsed faintly.

  Idalia leaned in, fascinated. "Eggs?"

  "Keys," Lief corrected quickly, before she could bite one.

  Idalia paused. "Keys are eggs?"

  Cheyin's eyes twinkled. "Sometimes."

  The elf placed the seed-pods on the desk in careful arrangement, as if spacing them out reduced chaos. "You have been given adjoining suites with a shared common room. Lord Braunches insisted."

  "Of course he did," Rhaya said.

  Vestella's lips curved in the smallest, most dangerous hint of a smile. "How thoughtful."

  Cheyin stared at the seed-pods like they had personally insulted her. "Adjoining."

  "Shared," Lief repeated, sounding like he might faint from responsibility.

  Idalia brightened. "We are in one big cave!"

  "It is not a cave," Kelix said.

  "It is a paid cave," Idalia corrected, as if that made it worse.

  Doro huffed, then pointed his snout at the seed-pods. "Snack?"

  "No," Cheyin said, and tapped his horn lightly. "Do not eat the hotel."

  Doro looked genuinely offended by this limitation.

  The elf was still smiling. Still calm. Either he was a very brave elf, or Verdantine trained its staff like warriors.

  Then the front doors opened again.

  A gust of cold air rolled into the lobby, bringing snow and the scent of travel. Idalia's ears swiveled instantly. New footsteps. Multiple. Booted. Disciplined. Familiar in the way predators were familiar, even if their faces were different.

  Cheyin's posture did not change much, but Idalia noticed her shoulders settle into a fighter's looseness.

  Three people entered, shaking snow off cloaks and stamping their boots like they were trying to convince the floor they belonged there. They did not look like elves. They looked like the Wanderans from Cheyin's chamber, the ones who smelled like bad ground and stubborn survival.

  One was tall with a scar across his nose and a pack slung over one shoulder. Another was lean and sharp-eyed, her hair tied back tight, hands already near hidden tools. The third was shorter and broader, carrying what looked like a bundled crate that breathed softly, as if something inside it was alive and annoyed.

  They stopped when they saw Cheyin.

  Their faces did something strange. Relief, surprise, and a very particular kind of dread, the kind you felt when your boss arrived early and you had been caught doing something foolish.

  "Commander," the scar-nosed one said, then paused, eyes flicking over the group. His gaze landed on Idalia and froze.

  Idalia smiled at him. It was a friendly smile. It also showed too many teeth.

  He swallowed. "So the reports were not exaggerating."

  Cheyin lifted a hand in a casual greeting. "You found the place."

  "We found the place," the sharp-eyed one echoed, she then stared at the crystal-lit lobby like it was a trap disguised as luxury. "We thought it would be a safe house. Not a... tree palace."

  The broad one shifted his bundle. Something inside it hissed, faint and irritated.