Vera glanced at the various carved figures lining the front courtyard of Sablewatch Hollow as Serel’s cheerful voice rang out ahead. She couldn’t stop thinking about how this place must look to an outsider now that Elaria had planted that thought in her head.

  Maybe this was why you didn’t decorate your home with the exact niche interests you loved if you ever planned on having visitors. The level of… exposure was a special kind of sting.

  She wasn’t changing a thing. Over her dead body. But she’d probably cringe over it for a week, which was longer than she’d spent worrying about most opinions before.

  Serel’s laugh rang out, snapping her attention forward. The girl was introducing their resident massive wolf of swirling wisps and shadow-mist to the even larger crimson-scaled dragon lounging in the grass beyond the gates. Both beasts watched each other intently while Serel proudly recounted yesterday’s flight to ‘Howlie.’

  Vera stepped through the gates and stopped beside Caldrin as he spoke with Elaria, nodding with his usual calm poise.

  “I’ll ensure your instructions are conveyed to the appropriate individuals so they know to expect your arrival, Lady Valecrest,” he said. “Would you also like me to begin compiling a list of guild representatives and the current authorities that are cooperating with the rebuilding and restructuring?”

  “That would be helpful,” Elaria replied.

  Caldrin dipped his head. “Then I shall see what can be arranged and present the initial list by evening.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Of course, my lady.”

  Elaria’s attention shifted to Vera as she approached, holding her in a long, unreadable stare.

  Vera lifted a brow. “What?”

  “I am simply considering how fortunate you are to have someone like Emberlain serving you,” Elaria said. “It is clear he is responsible for most of what actually gets done around here.”

  Vera’s expression twitched. She glanced at Caldrin.

  Was he trying to make her look bad?

  To his credit, Caldrin looked slightly sorry as he cleared his throat. “While it is irrefutably true that my unwavering loyalty is a stroke of profound luck for my lady,” he said—making Vera’s expression darken—“it cannot be denied that she has done more than enough to earn it. As you know, Lady Valecrest, despite all her… tendencies, my lady is an eminently worthy individual. Even beyond her feats as a Chosen of House Hollow and her accomplishments as a warrior, she is, simply as herself, someone deserving of my devotion.”

  Vera stared at him.

  Not the response she expected.

  Elaria studied him for a long moment before looking again at Vera. Eventually, she gave the slightest incline of her head. “I know.”

  With that, she turned, her cloak of scorched dark weave shifting behind her as she crossed to Serel and laid a hand on Vorthalor’s scaled neck, saying something quiet to the girl.

  Vera looked back at Caldrin. “Do you mean that?” she asked.

  He glanced at her. “Mean what, precisely, my lady?”

  “That you think I’m worthy. As a person.”

  He clasped his hands behind his back. “With the utmost sincerity.”

  “…Huh.” Vera eyed him. “Thanks, I guess.”

  “You are very welcome. Lifting my lady’s spirits when she feels inadequate is the least a loyal retainer might attempt.”

  Vera frowned. “Did you have to go and ruin it?”

  Caldrin smiled faintly, letting out a quiet chuckle. “Apologies. Certain habits are ingrained to the bone, as they say.”

  “I’ve noticed.” Vera shook her head and summoned Stillwake into her hand. “So. Where are we heading first?”

  “Master Grandhair’s estate would be a suitable start,” Caldrin answered. “Lady Valecrest intends to visit Marrowfen’s key authorities on behalf of the Pyric Oath. I have taken the liberty of informing them of her arrival and assisting in arranging the necessary meetings.”

  “How generous of you. One might almost think you were her steward.”

  “Is that jealousy I heard, my lady?”

  “No. Just an observation, considering you apparently think so highly of my character.”

  “I do believe I spoke rather favorably of your character.”

  “Among the commentary, yes.” Vera narrowed her eyes at him, hiding a small smile.

  It honestly felt good hearing him say he saw her, as a person, worthy. Because that was one of the things she was fairly sure stayed mostly the same between Vera Morgans and the Veralyth Mournvale the people in this world knew.

  But she and Caldrin had this relationship where admitting that out loud felt off. She bet he knew it already.

  As she absently let Stillwake’s curved blade cut through the air and open a Hollow Reach before them, her gaze drifted back to Elaria and the dragon beside her.

  They were supposed to return to Marrowfen as a group, but Vera and Caldrin were traveling through Hollow Reach while Elaria and Serel were taking the far more dramatic route.

  “If there’s anything for me to be jealous of, it’s that dragon,” she muttered.

  “That would be envy, my lady,” Caldrin said.

  She shot him a look.

  “Most linguistic authorities would likely agree there is a semantic distinction.”

  “Has anyone ever called you a pedant?”

  “You have, on several occasions.”

  “I bet, yeah.”

  She looked back at Serel and raised her voice. “Serel! We’re heading off now. See you in Marrowfen. It’s alright to have fun, but don’t cause a mess, alrigokayt?”

  Serel waved enthusiastically. “Mmm! Bye, Mommy!”

  Vera stepped toward the Hollow Reach—only to stop when she caught herself staring at the dragon one more time.

  “You know,” Caldrin said behind her, “I am certain that if you asked, Lady Valecrest would allow you to join them.”

  She stiffened, spinning halfway toward him.

  He didn’t even bother looking at her. “Young miss,” he called, loud enough for Serel to hear, “do you think her ladyship would enjoy having your company on the flight?”

  Serel immediately perked up, eyes widening. “Mommy, do you want to come?”

  Vera barely stopped herself from glaring at Caldrin. She forced a smile at Serel. “I’m sure it is, but three people might be a bit much for the dragon. And your mama is the one who decides that.”

  Serel spun to Elaria. “Mama, can Mommy come too?”

  Elaria went silent, a faint crease forming between her brows as she looked at Vera. “…Vorthalor can carry us all if necessary.”

  Vera blinked. She hadn’t expected her to actually say yes.

  Serel beamed. “Come, Mommy! Say hi to Vorthie!”

  Vera looked at the dragon as its eye slid toward her. Something fluttered in her chest—excitement, nerves, the whole mix. She definitely wanted to fly a dragon. But…

  She glanced at Elaria.

  Given the current situation between them, doing this together felt complicated.

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  But she couldn’t say no to Serel now.

  She stepped away from the Hollow Reach and crossed the grass, patting Howl’s misty flank before stopping in front of Vorthalor. Serel immediately launched into a very sincere but somewhat chaotic introduction as though she were the dragon’s personal handler. Vorthalor watched Vera with a level, intelligent focus that followed her every move. She could feel he recognized her strength, but couldn’t tell what he thought of it.

  Once introductions were done, Elaria told them to climb up. Howl vanished into Serel’s shadow, and Caldrin had already stepped through the Hollow Reach.

  Up close, Vera realized there was a surprisingly thin but soft saddle situated on the dragon’s back—crimson like his scales and shaped to fit him perfectly. It didn’t look meant for three riders, but with Serel small enough to sit in Vera’s lap, they managed. Vera settled at the back, Serel in her arms, Elaria in front.

  Vera felt a bit awkward placing her hands on the rigid armor at Elaria’s sides as Vorthalor unfurled his wings, but that awkwardness dissolved into a rush of exhilaration when the dragon launched upward.

  Serel let out a delighted squeak. Vera instinctively tightened her hold—not too much—while a surprised breath escaped her. Something warm settled in her chest as the dragon lifted them above the treetops and the mist-draped waters of the lake winding through Duskfall Vale.

  She’d seen this view already, the first day she woke into this world. But this time…

  This time she was seeing it from atop a dragon.

  That improved the entire experience by several orders of magnitude.

  Vorthalor’s wings beat in long, powerful strokes, each one lifting them higher above Duskfall Vale. The wind rushed past them, cool and sharp, tugging at Vera’s hair as trees and mist blurred below into streaks of green and silver. Serel squeaked and laughed in her lap every time they dipped or rose, kicking her legs like she was trying to run on air.

  Vera couldn’t blame her. The thrill was almost as addictive as a good fight.

  They passed over the first ridge of mountains surrounding the vale. Peaks jutted up around like jagged teeth, and Vorthalor skimmed so close to one of the stone faces that Vera felt the air pressure shift as it slid past. She felt herself grinning, cheeks tight from the wind.

  This dragon seemed to know how to enjoy himself as well.

  Serel twisted to look back at her. “Mommy, this is so fun!”

  “Yeah?” Vera watched the girl, and a sudden idea sprang to mind. She leaned down. “Want to see something even better?”

  Serel nodded. “Mmm!”

  “Then hold tight to your mama,” Vera said, guiding the girl’s hands.

  Serel immediately latched onto Elaria’s waist. Elaria stiffened like she sensed something terrible approaching.

  “Mournvale,” she warned, already turning her head.

  Vera let go of the woman’s armor and tipped herself backward and off Vorthalor’s side.

  The world flipped. Air roared in her ears as she fell, weightless and free for several heartbeats. The sky stretched above, endless and bright, the dragon blocking it quickly growing smaller. For a moment she did nothing but let herself drop, wind tearing past her.

  Serel’s delighted scream cut through the wind.

  Elaria’s very-not-delighted shout followed right after.

  Vera twisted mid-fall, Resonance pooling as she smirked to herself.

  Breakstep.

  Her foot found purchase, and an explosion of force changed her direction. She stepped again—once, twice, three times—each step a sharp burst of power that sent her darting through the sky like she was sprinting on invisible platforms.

  She caught up to Vorthalor’s flank, Breakstepping beside him while waving like she’d just jogged up.

  Serel cheered like she’d just witnessed a miracle.

  Elaria stared at her with a look that Vera decided not to try interpreting right now.

  Vorthalor rumbled, head craning slightly in her direction. Then he angled a wing downward, suddenly speeding up.

  Vera’s smirk grew.

  She Breakstepped after him. The dragon swerved, causing Serel to yelp on his back before laughing loudly as Vera pivoted and caught her momentum just enough to run past above them. He then surged upward, and she followed. It wasn’t a real competition, but she found herself treating it like one.

  Though Elaria clearly disagreed. A pulse of sharp Resonance radiated from the woman through Vorthalor’s scales, and Vera almost found herself running straight into a wall of heat that appeared. The dragon abruptly leveled out, dropping the playful maneuvering, while Vera caught Elaria’s gaze and realized she might have allowed herself to get a bit too carried away.

  With a sigh, she Breakstepped back to step foot on Vorthalor—who slowed to make it easier for her—and took a moment to find her balance before sitting down behind Elaria, settling with her arms around Serel again.

  The girl practically vibrated with excitement. “Mommy, that was so cool!”

  “Glad you liked it,” Vera said.

  Elaria didn’t turn around or say anything at all.

  The rest of the flight passed in relative quiet, Serel pointing out cliffs, rivers, birds, and anything that caught her eye. Vera kept close to the girl, drinking it all in and silently thanking Caldrin for forcing her into the sky. By the time they reached Marrowfen, the city’s towers and stone walls rose ahead in a gray sprawl streaked with white and black. Vorthalor dipped his wings toward a sunken district—the infilled remains of a quarry, now crowded with bone-built structures. At its center stood Hollowstone Table.

  The dragon touched down in front of the squat building, wings beating heavy gusts across the courtyard and sending dust swirling into tight spirals.

  People stared.

  Vera took a second to soak it in, pulse thudding warmly in her ears.

  Yeah. She understood now. There was something special about landing on a dragon in the middle of a city. The cool factor was off the charts. She was officially more jealous of Elaria than ever before.

  Elaria stroked Vorthalor’s neck as she prepared to climb down, but Vera didn’t bother. She scooped Serel up under the arms—earning a cute, startled cry—stood, and hopped off the dragon’s back.

  “Thanks for the ride, Vorthalor,” she said, shifting Serel into a princess carry as she landed on the stone.

  Serel let out an even cuter yelp on impact, then looked up at her with a soft pout.

  “Sorry,” Vera said with a grin.

  The girl tapped a light fist against her shoulder before Vera set her down. Vera laughed under her breath—until she turned and saw Elaria dismount and approach her with a very serious expression.

  “Did you have fun?” Elaria asked coolly.

  Vera hesitated. “…Maybe.”

  “Good for you.” The woman turned without another word and headed toward the Table’s entrance. “Vorthalor, return before evening,” she ordered over her shoulder. “We will speak then.”

  The dragon lowered his head toward Serel, golden eyes narrowing with a strange focus.

  Serel smiled, waving. “Bye, Vorthie!”

  Vorthalor let out a short rumble, then reared back. His wings swept up, sending loose dust scattering again, and with a single leap, he rose above the buildings, circled the district once, then angled away beyond the city walls. Serel followed him with her gaze, and Vera had to take her hand to get her moving toward Hollowstone Table, catching up with Elaria.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask,” Vera said, brushing a hand through Serel’s hair to fix a wind-tangled curl, “how’d you manage to find a dragon that lets you ride him like that? What’s the story?”

  Elaria didn’t look back as she pushed the doors open. “That is a story for another time.”

  The moment they stepped inside, dozens of eyes were already on them.

  Vera recognized several of the rugged faces around the broad chamber and along the long central table, but none she’d spoken with personally. Still, every one of them likely knew who she was by now. And they definitely recognized Elaria. Not to mention that they would have sensed the dragon that had just landed outside their headquarters.

  Which made their attempts at looking calm and composed borderline impressive.

  Almost like someone had warned them not to panic when two of the strongest people around strolled in with a child in tow.

  A couple of them even smiled at Serel as she slipped in behind Vera, forced at last to stop staring after the dragon with a faintly disappointed frown.

  Elaria paused just inside the entrance, her gaze scanning the room before settling on the nearest man at the table. He was a broad fellow with an old scar bisecting his cheek. “Is Blazegrip here?”

  The man stiffened, then nodded. “Aye. He’s here.”

  Vera almost rolled her eyes. It wasn’t like they actually needed to ask.

  To prove the point, a familiar booming noise erupted from the back of the chamber as Vanded’s hulking frame appeared in the doorway.

  “Mournvale!” he called, already armored as if expecting a brawl. “You’ve got some guts showing up after that little stunt of yours yesterday.”

  Vera folded her arms. “Those are brave words. You saying you didn’t deserve it?”

  Vanded stared at her for several seconds, a thick tension settling between them—until his expression split into a wide grin and a bark of laughter.

  “Hah! Fair enough! Like Bold Jack of the Nine Bruises, a man’s got to own the trouble he kicks up. I poked the Ashborn Ascendant at my own risk.”

  “Good that you recognize that,” Vera said.

  “But don’t think I’m letting it slide,” he warned, amusement edging his voice. “Took me two hours to scrub the stench of mirebelcher blood out of my gear after I got home. That debt’s getting paid back.”

  “I’d love to see you try. You saying you’re up for a spar?”

  His grin sharpened. “Always, Mournvale. Always!”

  Vera found herself smiling, until she noticed Elaria’s cold stare cutting between them.

  Oh.

  Right.

  Maybe joking around with Vanded of all people wasn’t the best move right now. She already had a questionable track record in Elaria’s eyes.

  Vanded noticed the stare too. The entire room seemed to pause as he straightened up and cleared his throat. “Valecrest. Mournvale.” He nodded. “My Vice-Master and I’ve been waiting. Suppose you’ll want some privacy for this meeting, yeah? We can head to his office.”

  He motioned for them to follow as he turned and stepped out.

  Elaria lingered for another moment, scanning the room again before glancing at Vera and Serel. Then she strode forward, armor clicking softly as she rounded the central table.

  Vera gave a small nod to the gathered members, with Serel copying her slightly more shyly, before they hurried after the woman. Soon they were moving through Hollowstone Table’s corridors until they reached Gard’s office, where Vanded stood waiting by the door. He gestured them inside as he pushed it open, his bulk filling most of the frame.

  “Gard, look who we’ve got!” he announced as he strode to the center of the room.

  Elaria and Vera stepped in, Serel close behind.

  Behind his desk, Gard looked up as he removed a pair of glasses and set aside several documents. He stood, inclining his head. “Lady Valecrest. Forgive the Chapter-Master’s enthusiasm. Welcome to Hollowstone Table. We are honored by your presence.”

  Elaria lifted a hand in acknowledgment. “Gard Whiteforest, yes? I have heard of you. They say you are a capable man, despite having to wrangle difficult personalities daily.”

  The man smiled slightly. “Receiving such praise from the Covenant’s Flamebearer is… humbling. Hollowstone Table is… challenging work, certainly, but I do genuinely consider it a privilege to serve alongside our Chapter-Master.”

  “I see,” Elaria said. She glanced at Vanded, then at Vera. “You are fortunate to have someone like him under your command.”

  Vera had the distinct impression she was being compared here, and that it wasn’t a good thing.

  Vanded only grinned, utterly unbothered. “That I am. Makes my job a fair bit easier.” He clapped his hands together, energy practically crackling off him. “Before we get into all that official business—and Mournvale kicks me halfway to Karthvale again—we should address the big question first, yeah? What’s this I hear about the two of you getting up and about and somehow ending up with joint spawn in the shape of that cute niece of mine?”

  Silence dropped over the room.

  Gard looked between them. “…Excuse me, what?”

  Elaria went very still. The air around her warmed a few uncomfortable degrees.

  Vera stared at Vanded, sincerely wondering whether the man had an actual masochistic streak.

  “Mommy,” Serel whispered at her side, tugging on her sleeve. “What’s a spawn?”