The clearing of a throat behind Rylan drew his attention, and he turned around.

  His heart skipped a beat when he saw that the Thistlethorns—minus Soren... and him—had gathered at the centre of the deck.

  Countess Beatrice’s sharp eyes drifted across the faces around her as she waited for everyone to quiet down. “As I’m sure you’ve all heard by now, we’ll only be making a brief stop at home. However, since there’s no sign of immediate pursuit, we’ve decided there should be time for dinner at the estate before we depart for Thornholm. Expect the bell to ring within the hour, and do try to arrive at the dinner table on time.”

  For a moment, Rylan’s stomach roiled at the thought of the tasteless slop he’d been so glad to leave behind.

  Artoran, who had walked up to listen to the announcement, brought his fist up to his mouth and coughed politely.

  The Countess’s eyes slid over to him, then on to Rylan. A moment later, she turned to her personal maid to loudly add, “Tilda dear, do see to it that the staff are made aware that they’ll need to set three extra plates at the family table.”

  The grey-haired maid made a slight bow.

  Rylan blinked. He had the sneaking suspicion he’d just seen what a high Perception could accomplish when complemented by high Presence and Mind, which Beatrice most certainly had...

  His thread of thought ground to a halt when Rylan realised that he was actually seeing one blue spirit too many over by the Thistlethorns.

  There should’ve been three—belonging to Beatrice, Bryce, and Helen—but he saw a fourth, and the source wasn’t his father.

  It was Tilda.

  The light spilling forth from her chest was fuzzy and faint, but unmistakable. The unassuming personal maid to his great-grandmother... was a Sapphire-Grade Quinthar.

  Rylan’s heart jumped into his throat when he realised what might be the cause of the fuzziness. Does she have the Stealth Skill, like me? She must be running it constantly if so! His eyes fell on the long metal pins holding up her hair. Had they always been that sharp? A hidden bodyguard? Actually yeah, that wouldn’t surprise me at all...

  Either way, this wasn’t the time or place to reveal what he’d just figured out—or how—so Rylan fought to keep his emotions off his face and turned back to Beatrice to nod in appreciation.

  He was starting to see the wisdom in Tamina’s habit of keeping her face carefully blank. Vidric seemed like the type with a lot of Presence, and he probably wasn’t lacking in Perception either...

  Spirits... this dinner is going to be the worst, isn’t it?

  For a moment, Rylan considered praying to Thyella for an escape, but that felt like a rather frivolous reason to call upon the Great Spirit, and most likely it would just cause Izzy to come flying back in confusion.

  Next to him, Soren cleared his throat. “Actually, why don’t we make that five extra plates? I would be loath to miss out on the opportunity to catch up with these two dear friends of mine,” he said, inclining his head to indicate Yuel and Nazyr, who were just then making their way onto the deck. A thick layer of bandage covered Nazyr’s wounded thigh, and he was using what appeared to be an improvised crutch made of a small oar, possibly pilfered from a lifeboat. “Moreover, from what I understand, they played a pivotal role in the Hawktalons’ daring escape.”

  Rylan could kiss him. The duo would be the perfect buffer from awkward conversation.

  “Very well,” Beatrice said curtly, her face carefully blank. “Five plates, then.”

  “Much obliged, milady,” Yuel said, executing a flawless bow. He definitely had a bunch of Presence, as well as Dexterity. “Though I do have to caveat that a certain someone promised that he would personally be cooking my boo’s meals until he was all better...”

  “Oh?” Beatrice replied mildly, arching a single eyebrow.

  Rylan rubbed his nose, a little embarrassed at being put in the limelight. “My Skill doesn’t require much; I’ll just add some seasoning for your meal today at the table, as I don’t want to get in Chef Zelim’s way when he has to prepare this many meals within an hour. But on Thornholm, I’ll definitely make you some dishes from scratch.”

  “You have the Cooking Skill?” Helen blurted out, her eyes shining.

  Surprised, Rylan turned to glance at Soren.

  “That’s right, I told them squat,” Soren said, puffing up his chest and placing his hands on his hips. “Squat, I tell you!”

  “Yes, and he was very obnoxious about it,” Helen said, agitation bleeding through in her voice. “So Rylan, what—”

  Lord Bryce interrupted her with a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s not interrogate the boy here. There’ll be time at dinner. I’m sure he’s eager to reunite with his friends at the estate.”

  Helen’s shoulders sagged a little, but to Rylan’s relief, she nodded.

  At that moment, a light jolt went through the ship as it bumped into the docks, and two sailors hurried to ready the gangplank.

  “Artoran,” Beatrice spoke. “Would you care to accompany us to my parlour for some refreshments?”

  “It would be my honour, my Lady,” Artoran replied, offering her his arm and assisting her down the gangplank, with Tilda right in their wake.

  “Can you believe it?” Leahna asked wistfully. “It’s been less than a day. And he’s helping someone else walk.”

  Rylan smiled at her. “Our little father, all grown up.”

  Soren let out a snort, covering his mouth.

  Bryce and Dionne followed them down the gangplank and, after a hesitant smile and a little wave at Rylan, Helen as well.

  [Hey Boss, so ehm... Can I say hello to your other family at some point?]

  Rylan frowned minutely, more aware of his facial expressions than ever before. ‘Not just yet, buddy,’ he sent back. ‘I’m not ready to trust them with you yet. Is that all right?’

  [Sure sure sure,] Arphin hurried to say. [I get it, Boss. Can I at least say hi to Soren, though? I’ve never actually spoken to him before...]

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Right, Arphin hadn’t developed the ability to speak with others yet when they’d said goodbye... ‘Sure,’ Rylan agreed. Soren already knew about Arphin anyway. ‘But wait till we’re alone, or at least with just people who know about you.’

  [Yessss! You got it, Boss! That’ll give me some time to think of what I want to say!]

  While Rylan had been distracted, Miss Brightwind had made her way over to the railing they were at. “Come on,” she said to Nazyr, beckoning him. “I want to take a look at that wound, freshen up the bandage. The Lady Dionne is personally going to make a poultice, to prevent infection.”

  Yuel opened his mouth to reply something, but Rylan’s attention was diverted by Soren, who pulled on his sleeve and pointed at the docks. “Ryles, look who it is!”

  Turning to follow his finger, Rylan broke out in a big grin. On a whim, he charged up a Jump, crouching slightly before he activated the Skill and launched himself over the railing.

  Zahra let out a squeal as he came soaring over and turned her body away defensively. However, the second portion of mana stored in the soles of Rylan’s boots expanded just before his feet touched down on the stone dock, softening his landing and allowing him to come to a halt right in front of her with his arms already spread wide.

  Zahra slapped him on the upper arm, but the gleam in her silvery-grey eyes betrayed her joy even before she flung her arms around him. “Show off!” she muttered in his ear, before leaning back to look at him as if she didn’t quite trust her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re here! I mean, when we got the news about the Talons attacking Cliffport, I did pray for you to be safe and make your way home someday, but I hadn’t expected you to get here this soon!”

  Rylan barked out a laugh. “Me neither. It’s a long story.” He drew back to study her, noting that while she’d cut her brown curls short, she hadn’t changed much. “There’s something I should tell you before you hear it from someone else,” he said earnestly. “Something I couldn’t say in my letters.”

  She blinked. “Oh?”

  He glanced around and pulled her aside a little before he continued in a lower voice. “I, ehm, actually had a Pearl of Inspiration—a gift from Soren, but I ended up giving it to my sister, to help her become a Quinthar. She’d already taken two Enhancers, you see—and the Attribute Requirements for a first Skill really are pretty harsh—and acquiring those had put them in debt and I just...”

  Zahra smiled softly, shaking her head. “Sounds like you found a wonderful use for it. To be honest, after everything that’s happened and the things you wrote in your letters, I don’t think the life of a Quinthar would be for me. Besides... Loukas and I are kind of departing on our own adventure.”

  As she said it, she laid her hand on her belly, which he only now realised had a hint of bulge to it.

  It took Rylan a second to parse the meaning, then his eyes widened. “You’re pregnant?! Spirits Zahra, that’s great! Congratulations!”

  While he was genuinely happy for her, Rylan also felt a pang of loss. Realistically, this meant they would probably never go on an adventure together like they’d used to talk about... Then again, he wouldn’t want what happened to him for Zahra.

  Shaking off the strange feeling, he beamed at her. “When are you due?”

  “She just entered the second trimester,” Loukas said as he walked up with a big grin. “So about four more seasons. Also, hey Rylan! Good to see you, bud.”

  Rylan clasped forearms with the young guard. However, when Loukas went to draw back, Rylan held on a bit longer, leaning in with narrowed eyes. “You are going to make an honest woman out of her now, right?”

  “You’ve met Chef Zelim, haven’t you?” Loukas replied dryly. “Do you think I’d still have all my bits if I wasn’t? Yes, we’re betrothed.”

  Rylan barked out a laugh, but let go and leaned back. “Good. I’m happy for you. The both of you.”

  “Yes, I’m very happy,” Zahra said, narrowing her eyes at Loukas. “Though I’d be happier if someone would stop making it sound like he’s being forced to marry me.” She poked his waist, which the young guard hardly seemed to notice through his leather armour. “It’s not funny!”

  “It’s a little funny,” Loukas countered, ignoring the poking as he slung an arm around her and kissed the top of her head. “Anyway, we hadn’t really planned to get started on kids yet, but I certainly don’t mind that Lapos had other plans for us.”

  Rylan nodded along. While it was not part of the official scriptures, the Great Spirit of Soil and Clay was widely considered to also be associated with fertility and childbirth. “Oh! That’s right, I have something of yours.”

  He took the dagger off his belt, sheath and all, and held it up in front of him.

  Loukas’s eyes widened and he straightened up. “Oh, so that’s where it went!” he said loudly and, to be frank, rather unconvincingly. It didn’t help when he glanced at Soren, who had come over with Leahna to stand nearby.

  The young Thistlethorn raised a brow, looking amused, but said nothing and remained at a slight distance with Leahna, seemingly giving Rylan some space for his reunion.

  When no retribution appeared to be forthcoming, Loukas relaxed again. “So. Did it serve you well?”

  “It did.”

  “Good. Keep it, then. I’ve long been given a new one,” he added with a wink.

  “Thanks,” Rylan said as he placed it back on his belt. To be honest, he’d grown pretty attached to the weapon.

  [Pssh. What would you even need it for when you have me?]

  ‘Stabbing people in the dark.’

  [What? Why wouldn’t I... Ah right, I ‘glow.’ Stupid eyes ruining everything.]

  Shaking his head, Rylan beckoned over Leahna. “Zahra, Loukas... I’d like you to meet my sister, Thar Leahna Hawktalon.”

  Zahra’s eyes widened a little at the last name—that wasn’t something Rylan had felt comfortable adding to his letters—but she quickly recovered and performed a curtsy. “A pleasure to meet you, milady...”

  “Oh please, none of that,” Leahna said, waving her off with a big smile, then actually reaching out to grab her hands. “Spirits, Ryles told me so much about you, I feel like I know you already!”

  Zahra quickly relaxed again and seemingly within seconds, the two were lost in their own conversation.

  “So, what’s it like being back?” Loukas asked, looking only a little uncomfortable in the presence of Soren, who had slid up next to Rylan.

  “Weird,” Rylan admitted. “This is not how I’d expected to return.”

  Zahra turned to glance at him, a familiar gleam of mischief in her eyes. “You could sneak in through the fogtubes if you prefer.”

  “You know,” Leahna replied conversationally. “That’s actually how we fled the city.”

  “No kidding?”

  Rylan shrugged. “What can I say? If it works, it works. To be honest, that was the easy part.”

  Rylan could practically see the questions bubbling up inside of Zahra, but the clearing of a throat interrupted their reunion.

  Miss Amberleaf appeared behind her, her livery prim and proper and her grey hair up in the tightest bun in the Kingdom of Ventonas as always. “Miss Brightwind,” the stern old woman gently spoke. “Your presence is required in the dining room; there’s a lot to be prepared still for the dinner that is apparently to start within an hour from now.”

  Rylan’s initial gut reaction was to protest; however, the words stilled in his mouth as Zahra curtsied with a genuine smile.

  “I’m coming, ma’am,” she said, before turning an apologetic face towards Rylan. “Duty calls! Light duty, because of my condition, but still; I should get to it.”

  It was clear Zahra didn’t mind all that much, and frankly... why should she?

  All of a sudden, it struck him that many would consider Zahra’s position quite enviable. She had a very steady job with a solid employer, and lived in an incredibly safe place to raise her kids.

  Even if she could move to the city, why would she?

  “Go ahead,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ll come catch up with you after dinner.”

  With a wave of her hand, Zahra left. Loukas, muttering a goodbye, hurried after her, just so he could walk hand in hand with her to the main building.

  Miss Amberleaf, however, stayed.

  Rylan turned to her, blinking down at her in surprise when he saw tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. She seemed smaller than he remembered, but then, he’d probably grown a bit taller while he’d been away.

  He was too flabbergasted to react when she put her frail-feeling arms around him and squeezed with surprising strength. “Welcome home,” she whispered. “You fool boy.”

  “Thanks... Miss Amberleaf,” he managed to choke out, feeling oddly emotional.

  She drew back and looked him over, reaching up to straighten his collar a bit, sniffling once before she gave him a stern look. “I’ll be expecting better behaviour from you, now that you’re officially a young master of the house... milord.”

  “Right,” he replied, bewildered. “I’ll... try?”

  She nodded primly, then stepped back to curtsy at Soren and Leahna. “Dinner should be prepared in forty-five minutes. Please don’t forget to freshen up.”

  And with that, she turned around and left.

  “Come on,” Leahna said after a moment, hooking her arm through Rylan’s elbow. “It sounds like we’ve got some time, so give your big sister a tour; I want to see where you grew up!”

  “Ooh, yes,” Soren agreed, rubbing his hands together. “I’ve got so many stories to tell you...”

  “All right all right,” Rylan laughed, shaking his head. After thinking for a second, he resolutely turned her around and started leading Leahna off the docks, down to the driftline.

  “Wait,” Soren said, his brows drawing together as he hurried after them. “Where are we going, exactly?”

  “We’re taking the fogtubes!”

  “Seriously?” Soren complained.

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