Naghtown wasn’t big—just a handful of places serving food—yet the lanes breathed like warm hearth smoke and the town pulsed with life.

Hedi and Selina pushed into one such restaurant; squirrel-sized birds with brown feathers shrieked and burst off the eaves, a flurry like slung pebbles, clearly offended by human feet.

Can’t help it—the rain wants a roof, and we want a meal, like two currents crossing under a gray veil.

The place was small but jammed; bodies pooled to the doorway, and voices held the same steady pitch, like a passenger ship about to sink.

A few people noticed Hedi, nudged their companions, and their eyes pricked toward her gray-white hair like needles seeking thread.

They quickly sorted her from the Holy Maiden: Hedi’s hair only brushed her shoulders, while the Maiden’s fell to her waist like a silver river.

Hedi stood a half head shorter too—maybe a touch over one-fifty—and her face held a mature undertone, yet at a glance she looked school-age.

What they didn’t know: Hedi was already twenty-two, a winter willow carrying spring leaves.

“Everyone’s staring at you.”

“Because I look like the Holy Maiden.” Hedi slid into a window seat, idly leafing the menu like turning autumn leaves. “Might as well milk that face.”

“Not allowed!”

“Ah—praise the Holy Maiden, adore the Holy Maiden! We’ll raise alms, please save us from our woes!”

Selina leaned in and pinched Hedi’s cheek, like grabbing a puff of cloud. “You can’t do that!”

“Just teasing you.”

“If they find out, you’ll be burned alive, like a moth to a pyre!”

Hedi flipped to a fresh page, paper whispering like reed grass. “There’s no such custom here.”

“Who knows? We’ve been gone six years, and dust changes its color.”

“True... all right, how long are you gonna pinch?” She shook her head, shrugged Selina’s hand off, and ordered two of Naghtown’s signature steaks.

While they waited, Hedi propped an elbow and stared out, boredom settling like mist on pond water.

The sky wore heavy ink-clouds; the old wall was webbed with cracks, veins dark as an elder’s hands.

Everywhere hung a sodden hush, the world a rain-fat sponge—wet, weighty, and pressed to the ribs.

“When do you plan to go back?” Selina asked, hands turning on the table like warming palms at a brazier.

“If I could go back, I would’ve gone, like a migratory bird that smells its lake.”

“I don’t mean there...”

“Where?”

“There—that place... must I say it out loud?”

Hedi stretched, a cat at noon, teasing. “You skirt the graveyard like a shadow that won’t step into torchlight.”

“Because it’s not a good place.”

“We’ll see. Today... I don’t feel like going, like a foot refusing a cold stream.”

“Your procrastination again!”

“If we could see your sister, would you want to go?”

“I... I understand...” Selina nodded, her voice soft as damp soot. “So you still hold feelings for this place?”

“Do feelings get born and crawl out my ears like little fish?”

“Professor!”

Hedi lifted a strand of hair, complaints trailing like broken beads. “Some things don’t need saying... you’re nineteen... learn to read the wind.”

“I knew you were never cold.”

“That’s all you wanted to confirm?”

“I want your true heart. You still won’t speak it, but I’m happy, like a lantern finding a match.”

“I’m easily swayed by what people say; if they call you cold, I paste that label on you, like paper on a window.”

“You need to check for yourself.”

“And if I am cold?”

“How do you look cold—by throwing me away like a winter cloak?”

“What’s in your head—” Hedi smirked, finding play in the mood, and nodded. “Right, I might dump you, heartless as a north wind.”

“Really?”

Hedi met Selina’s pleading eyes, soft as rain on loam, and her tone shifted like a bell settling. “No.”

“What if the Academy discovers I’m an Investigator and forces you to choose the nobles over me?”

“I’ve wanted to resign for a long time, like a sword longing for its sheath.”

“What if being with me keeps you from clues to solve the puzzle?”

“The world’s questions can’t all be answered—some knots stay in the wood.”

“And between me and the Priest who took you in?”

Silence fell like ash.

“He’s dead,” Hedi said, face blank as winter glass, as if it happened to a stranger. “Does that ease you?”

“I’m sorry...” Selina lowered her head, voice muffled like cloth. “If I had to choose between you and my sister—”

“Don’t worry. I won’t make you choose, like I won’t split a river with a knife.”

“Pr—Professor...”

“Feeling guilty?”

Selina nodded, small as a dropped seed.

“Good. Saves you from spinning thoughts all day like a millstone.”

“Mm...”

Hedi smiled, indulgent as sun through thin cloud, and touched her tongue to her upper lip. “Little fool.”

Selina rubbed her eyes, sorrow kneading like rain in bread dough. “You treat me so well, and I push you to choose...”

“I told you—you’re a troublesome woman, like burrs on a coat.”

“Mm—” Selina folded onto the table, face buried in her arms like a bird under wing.

The server bounced over with two steaks done with care: rib cuts, tender grain fine as silk threads.

Slow roasting had built a caramel-brown crust that glowed like autumn bark, carrying a hint of spice that breathed like warm earth.

Beside it sat a spoon of bright vegetables—red-skinned baby potatoes, bell peppers, onions, and carrots, colors stacked like market stalls.

Hedi inhaled; hunger yawned like a cavern where thrown stones never echo, a hollow ringing behind the ribs.

“You’re not eating?” She drew her utensils, metal winking like fish scales, and saw Selina still face-down. “Wait too long and it goes cold.”

“I’ll punish myself.”

“That’s punishment? When you’re starving, I’ll still buy you food, like rain buys the field.”

“Mm...”

Hedi cut a small piece of beef, juices pooling like dusk. “Open up.”

“No.”

“Want a beating?”

Selina lifted her head and opened carefully, lips parting like a shy gate.

Hedi blew a soft breath, sent the bite in, watched her chew, content as a cat, then wiped the oil at her lip with a napkin.

“Ah—” Selina finished and waited, mouth open like a baby sparrow.

“‘Ah’ my foot. Feed yourself.”

“Let me treat it as punishment.”

“...Open.”

Selina chuckled, teeth flashing, and bit the beef Hedi offered. “I knew you treat me best!”

“Don’t eat and—hey, you’re nineteen...”

“It’s not about age; it’s proof of love, like ribbon on a kite!”

Hedi watched her in quiet, gaze steady as a lake, then cut another small bite of beef.