“I don’t know that. But from what we took off that strategist, it’s the divine book, no doubt.” The Queen drew out a handkerchief, moonlight pale, wrapping something unseen.

She unfolded it with the care of lifting frost from a petal. Medith’s eyes widened like struck flint. “Whose is this?”

“Whose isn’t the point. The point is, they know where the divine book lies.” The Queen tucked it away, worry pooling in her gaze like stormwater. “Little Mei, for throne and heart both, I advise you not to seek the Divine Stone. That path drags you—and us—toward a cliff’s edge.”

“But you’re the Divine Child. I won’t chain your steps. Are you sure you’ll do this?”

“Mm. I’m sorry, Your Majesty. This is my only reason to breathe. If I lose it, I don’t know how to live.” Medith’s resolve shone like a blade in dusk.

The Queen yielded, like ice thawing under spring wind. “Very well. Our Commander has decided. I, as Queen, don’t have the right to change it. I’ll support you quietly.”

Medith smiled, helpless as a leaf in a current, and followed the Queen out of the garden. “Oh—right, Sister Lahiss, what’s the use of this Divine Child status anyway?”

“In our clan? You can do as you please.” Her voice was mist over a lake. “The seers said once the Divine Child appears, we obey no matter what. But I won’t make it public yet. Let it be our secret.”

“Oh, like that… Then if I want sister tonight…”

“Sure. If you dare.” The Queen’s fearlessness glinted like starlight on steel.

Medith couldn’t read her, as always; the Queen’s expressions were riddles on silk. “Ha—haha, I was joking.”

“No. A ruler’s word gallops like a four-horse chariot. You said it. It’s set. If you don’t come, I’ll come to you.”

“How—how could I trouble Your Majesty to visit? Besides, I’m no gentleman anymore.”

“You’re a man and you say that without blushing?”

“I…”

They left the garden laughing, like wind chimes in an evening breeze.

Medith watched the sun sink, a crimson coin sliding behind roofs. She walked out of the training camp with the women, their steps steady as drumbeats.

Their auras had shed their down like fledglings. What once was girl-soft now felt tempered, quiet as a sheathed sword.

“Who’d have thought… a bit over a month ago, you couldn’t even draw a bow.” Pride warmed Medith’s voice like fire under tea.

The camp sat in the Glimmering Green Forest. No barrier was needed now, the trees breathing green light like a slow tide.

Thousands of the Dusk Legion held it like iron roots. If Nessos rose and struck from shadow, Medith felt she could keep them from even seeing the city gate.

Melia smiled, calm as dew. “Who’d have thought… it’s only been a month.”

“Commander… are you really a [Divine Child] from another world?” Phiby’s eyes shone like twin stars, fixed on Medith.

The others looked up with mountain-quiet awe. Milia just shrugged, a loose leaf in wind. “We suspected. The Commander’s skill and knowledge outstrip ours by far. We just didn’t dare confirm it.”

“But is the Commander truly a man?”

“I always felt something off,” Melia murmured, like remembering rain. “Her temperament’s too much like a man’s. The battlefield aura can’t be faked. Didn’t think a joke would turn true…”

Medith had told them only moments ago. At first they thought she was teasing. Then she drew a black book, night caught in leather.

They believed at once. It was the divine book, the thing the Queen never left behind.

Add in her impossible moves and sharp mind, and the river naturally met the sea. They weren’t that shocked; their hearts had braced for it.

The small surprise was that Medith trusted them with it, like placing a bird in their hands.

“You’d have known sooner or later. Better we say it early.” Medith’s helpless smile drifted like smoke. The women felt pride rise, steady and bright as a lantern.

“Don’t worry, Commander. We’ll keep it secret.” They patted their chests, vows solid as stone.

“Do you know the Divine Stone [Qiulus]? I’m going to seek its shards, and forge them into a whole.” Medith stopped and looked at them, resolve hard as obsidian.

Their shock cracked the air like thunder. “Commander… do you know what that means?”

“Yes. Even if the road is long and bitter, I’ll throw myself into it. I have a task I can’t abandon.” She bowed low, like a pine bending to snow. “I won’t force you. But I hope you’ll lend me your strength.”

They traded glances, then lifted her by the waist, gentle as lifting willow. “Commander, say the word. We’re the Dusk Legion. You’re our Commander, and the Divine Child besides. Be it horizon or hellfire, blades or waves, we’ll follow to the world’s end.”

Medith’s eyes misted like rain on stone. “You…” Their answering smiles were trust made visible, soft as spring light.

She wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “From today, we’re comrades-in-arms. No ranks, no titles.” She held out her right hand, palm steady.

“Mm.” Their right hands stacked like rings in a tree, an oath sealed by warmth.

“Hey, Commander, since you used to be a man, don’t you feel shy being with us?”

“Well… we used to…”

“Oh! Commander, you—” Melia recalled how Medith had looked when she first saw Sais. No wonder that look. So it was a man turned woman.

“That’s not on me. When in Rome, follow Rome’s rites.” Medith’s tone was light as bamboo. “I’m just telling you. My old self is dead. Now I’m Medith. That’s all.”

“Hahaha, fair enough…”

“Should we tell Sister Sais?”

“Don’t. If that woman knew, she’d swallow me whole.” Medith grimaced like tasting bitter tea. “Back then she spared me only because we were ‘the same kind’…”

“Hee-hee-hee…”

The Queen breathed steady and even, tide against shore. Medith turned her mechanical head with a soft whirr, metal whispering like a cicada.

She looked at the Queen’s peerless face, moon-pale and serene. Contentment softened her features; she clung to Medith’s neck like a sleepy child.

“Ah.” A thousand words melted into a single sigh, a leaf drifting down.

The Queen was a tragic soul too. The moment the crown rested, Lahiss was sealed away, leaving only the Queen, a mask of gold.

She’d set aside her gender like a robe. She’d even muffled her nature, winter over a spring.

When moonlight poured in like milk, how much safety could that soft warm bed give her?

“Has the Queen ever thought of finding a partner…” Medith studied that flawless form, sculpted like jade. Doubt flickered like candlelight.

She seemed never to have borne a child, yet held a mature woman’s allure and poise, night flowers opening to scent. Time alone can’t craft such fragrance.

Medith woke. The Queen was gone, like dew before dawn. Only a lingering warmth and a clean fragrance remained on her hands.

Beside the pillow lay a few strands of blue hair, river-bright on white linen. Without them, she’d think it was a dream.

Medith looked at those strands and wore a face equal parts guilt and helplessness, cloud over moon.