“Him? Who do you mean?” The Queen spoke on reflex, her voice thin as a tugged thread.

Medith hesitated for a long breath, and let silence fall like snow.

“Alright. Your mind runs far beyond ours; you see a different sky. But remember—don’t force yourself like a bow overdrawn.”

Sais clasped Medith’s smooth little hand, heart aching, as if shielding a candle from the wind; Medith had already done enough.

The Queen caught the soft, liquid warmth in Sais’s eyes. She stilled the hand she’d lifted to pull them apart, like reining in a restless horse.

Medith slipped her hand free without a sound, a fish vanishing under dark water. “Your Majesty, besides that, is there any other intel worth sharing?”

“Please. This matters to me,” she said, urgency beating like a drum. “Tell me everything, down to the last grain of sand.”

“You overpraise me, General,” the Queen answered, her gaze going solemn as stone. “If you don’t mind, I do know an old legend.”

“They say when the Divine Stones are gathered, heaven and earth will upend like a table, and the stones themselves will hurl a blinding white flash.”

“I don’t know what it means,” she went on, voice low as dusk. “At the continent’s center, an island sits ringed by sea.”

“The waters around it rage forever in storm and tsunami, like wolves tearing at the shore. But when the white light touches them, they lie calm as glass.”

“Then the island opens to all. There, one wish from the gods, and the final secret of this land will be given.”

“It’s the last, most distant legend—an end of the road,” she finished, breath like fog.

The women stared, stunned into stillness, like statues silvered by moonlight.

Grave as iron, Medith held her tongue; silence stretched like a drawn bow. At length she closed the book and offered it back to the Queen.

“Thank you for Your Majesty’s grace. This humble servant is endlessly grateful,” Medith said, her voice ringing like a temple bell.

The Queen’s face went bitter, like biting an unripe plum. A helpless twitch touched her lip. “General, you overstate.”

“Then we won’t disturb Your Majesty’s rest.” The women rose together and withdrew, an ebbing tide leaving the shore smooth.

At the threshold, Sais saw Medith standing rooted like a tree. Jealousy and helplessness flickered across her face; she shut the door, a blade slid between them.

Medith drew the open curtains closed, night falling like a veil, and began to undress.

“Is this all our relationship can be?” The Queen’s grievance spilled into tears, pearls rolling off a trembling string.

Medith’s body went rigid; her heart clenched before her hands moved. She pulled up the half-shed dress. “No… I just…”

“I know,” the Queen said, voice raw as a scraped knee. “I refused to accept it, so I used something base and stole your first time.”

“And now you’re going to repay me like this? Isn’t it enough?” She bit her red lip, fingers gripping the sheet as if she could tear the hurt out.

Medith walked toward her, feet heavy as lead. “Lahiss… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” she whispered, tears burning like salt.

She wrapped the Queen in her arms, and Lahiss broke, sobbing like summer rain on stone.

After a long while, worn out from weeping, the Queen hiccuped a breath. “Do you… really not love me?”

“I love you,” Medith said, the words soft as falling ash. “But somewhere along the way, we became this.”

“I never meant to. I thought it would bring you joy. I didn’t know it would wound you like this.”

The Queen let out a wet little laugh and wiped her eyes, sunlight peeking through rain. “Then from today, let’s go back to how we were, and grow slowly.”

“We’ll call it even.”

Medith blinked, then smiled and nodded, a bud easing open.

“It’s a promise. And you can’t strike while the iron’s hot with Sais,” the Queen added, grinning like a child after mischief. “We’ll rely on our own skill.”

Medith could only shake her head with a bitter smile. Their little fingers hooked, a red thread knotted, and the vow was sealed.

…

“Milia, Rita, Lina, Iling, Sais, Melia—get ready,” Medith said, beaming like morning light. “In a few days, pack up and we move.”

Milia, Iling, and Sais nodded, cool as frost; they were used to obeying without asking why.

The Lita Sisters were different; they bounced like birds let out of a cage.

“Yay! We get to go out and eat!”

“I’m going to town to dye my hair!”

“La-la~ la-la-la~” The two sang and danced, arms hooked, sparrows chattering on a green branch.

Melia, in her usual green Sprite outfit, watched them with a helpless smile, a leaf turned by the breeze.

“Ah, Sis Melia,” Medith said, smiling bitterly like tea steeped too long. “In just a few months, we’ve grown almost like strangers…”

Melia had been the first Sprite she met, the lantern at the start of her road. Then there was no time to talk, and the siege days dragged like years.

It had barely been a month, yet a high wall seemed to rise between them, bricks of missed moments.

Melia’s smile bloomed, and her white-gloved hand gave Medith a light pat. “You—small body, big mind. Even your hair’s gone white.”

“Do you know what they call you now?”

“The White-Haired Witch!” she said, half joking, half with a hidden awe like frost that won’t melt.

“Sis Melia… I want you to be like before,” Medith said, heart first, words after, each one a warm coal. “Scold the clueless girl I am.”

“Stop me when I go wrong. Fight me over makeup. Prank me. Don’t let my rank wedge between us.”

“I’m Medith—the little rascal you know. Only on the battlefield am I ‘Medith!’ Promise me, okay?”

Melia froze. Her long, gleaming green ponytail swayed in the breeze, grass bowing to spring wind.

Her eyes shimmered with tiny crystals. “Mm… Medith…” she murmured, and patted Medith’s small head, just as she always had.

Medith closed her eyes and leaned into it, a cat basking in a sunbeam.

“Ahem!” Sais, in the distance, was honing her new double blades. They were still black, now etched with complex lines, the edges flashing a new, icy light.

They looked dangerous, winter frozen along steel.

Sais slid them into her custom mechanism and shot Melia a dark look, a storm cloud smudging the horizon.

“I’ll… I’ll go sort my gear. I’ve been practicing some sword work,” Melia babbled, sweat beading like dew. “I’ll go grab my sword, haha… hahaha…”

She bolted, a rabbit vanishing into brush.

“Medith—” Phiby dropped from the sky, clutching her skirt as she fell toward her like a petal knocked loose.

Medith reached out and caught the petite girl in a princess carry, soft weight landing like a bundle of feathers.

“Heh… hehe…” Phiby grinned, wearing Medith’s squad uniform like a stolen ribbon.

“You,” Medith said, pinching her cheek, a peach ripe under her fingers. “Aren’t you in the Queen’s Guard now?”

“Why are you still running around in my team’s clothes?”

Phiby’s brows arced like a crescent moon. “The Queen said I’m a special case. I can wear whatever I like.”

“She even ordered Captain Sais to wear her original armor, full kit.”

Sais, in the distance, coolly honed her Dark Blade, the scrape like flint against stone.