“Here we are. Tonight, Lord Haidra can let our honored guests rest under my eaves; tomorrow, you can set out for the Royal Capital, like birds at dawn.”
Powell led them into a manor, its gates still as old pine; the Elf Clan’s beauty drew stares like moths to lanterns, and whispers were already spreading like wind over tiles—Medith had come to town.
Inside, servants stood in rows like reeds by a river; an oval long table carried a painted harvest of dishes, clearly prepared in advance. Haidra gave a small nod, satisfaction settling like a calm pond.
“Marquis Powell, I’ll trouble you with my men. Tomorrow, I’ll send them ahead to the Royal Capital like a vanguard of swallows,” Haidra said. Now that they were within his own lands, there was no need to travel with a whole forest of people.
“Rest easy. Everything’s set like chess pieces,” Powell said with a smile. The moment Medith and the others stepped in, lamplight dazzled them like a spray of stars; before they could react, several maidservants guided them into cushioned armchairs as soft as clouds.
“Forgive any rough edges in my welcome,” Powell offered the formal courtesies, then took the chair at the far end of the table like a captain at the prow.
Milia and the others murmured thanks, then fell on the food like wolves after frost. Days of dry rations and wild fruit had left their bellies hollow as drums; a platter of roast chicken and gleaming dishes pulled them past dignity, and they tore in.
Sais wasn’t so wild; she carved a few bites of steak with moonlight grace, tasted, then set down her knife like a resting feather. Haidra, gripping a drumstick slick with oil that shone like lamplight, asked, “What’s wrong… mm… does it taste bad?”
Sais dabbed her hands and lips with a white cloth like a falling petal, folded it as neatly as a letter. “No, it’s excellent. My appetite’s small—two or three bites and I’m full.”
Medith was still gnawing on a chicken cutlet; at Sais’s words, she met her eyes for a heartbeat, a glance crossing like two swallows, and in that look she read a sliver of warning. “Uh… tastes great to me. Maybe she’s watching her weight,” Medith joked, tossing the line like a pebble into water.
“Powell, any changes lately?” Kailon spoke like an old friend under a willow.
Haidra cut him a glance; Kailon watched the women eat like storm-birds at shore, then sighed, a wind through reeds.
Powell understood. “Nothing grave. Only His Majesty’s dealings with Prince Nairis have grown dense, vines twining day and night…”
“Your Highness?” Medith couldn’t help cutting in, instinct pricking like a thorn—royal blood. “Yes. His Majesty has two sons and two daughters,” Haidra said, his words settling like dust. “When there’s time, I’ll tell you their deeds.” Medith felt she’d overstepped and drew back like a cat slipping from a window.
After that, the women drifted into homely chatter like leaves in a stream. After a brief lunch, they entered rooms already prepared in a refined wooden lodge; each had her own chamber. But that night, Medith secretly summoned them, a whisper threading through boards.
Medith sat on the big bed, worry pooling like dark water. “Hey, Sais, what’s going on? Anything off?”
“Off? What’s wrong, Commander?” Milia felt unease crawl over her skin like a line of ants.
Sais’s pink ears fluttered; her phoenix eyes swept the room like a blade of wind. After a moment, she leaned in close, voice low. “There was something wrong with today’s food.”
The women jolted as if thunder cracked in the rafters. Phiby’s little face blanched like paper; she reached to gag herself, panic rising like bile.
“Hey! Don’t panic!” Sais stopped Phiby, her hand steady as a rock in a river.
Medith’s fine brows knit like storm clouds. “I didn’t notice. Poison?”
Sais shook her head, doubt flickering like a candle. “I don’t know. The instant it hit my stomach, something felt off. Maybe it’s just me…”
“Huh…” Iling stared at her hands, flexed them like sparrows hopping; she even used Wind Magic to check within, but found nothing—silence like snowfall.
Medith clicked her tongue, annoyance crisp as frost. “Tsk! Why so jumpy? You nearly scared everyone to death.”
At her words, the women exhaled together like a tide going out; if Medith said it was fine, hearts settled like stones.
“But just in case, we’ll all sleep together tonight.” Medith eyed the bed; it was wide as a raft—five could fit without crowding.
“Eek~ Commander wants to be naughty again…” Milia teased, her voice like silk with a grin.
“With me here, she wouldn’t dare bully you.” Sais’s lips tilted up, pride sharp as a crescent blade.
Iling leaned to her ear like a cat to cream. “Sister Sais, you didn’t know? The Commander is the Divine Child—it’s confirmed. She’s actually a man!”
“Ah—” Sais stared at Medith and yelped, body recoiling like a sprung bow. “Oh heavens?! You… you’re a man?”
Medith remembered Sais hadn’t been told. She crossed her arms over her chest like a shield and nodded, firm as a drumbeat.
“But… the Divine Child… that towering wisdom and power… no wonder.” Sais’s thoughts tangled like vines. “My gods, I’ve been with a man all this time? And did… that?” Her head filled with fog like a valley at dawn.
