Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, dappling the group with shifting patterns of light and shadow.

Kaelen, who had been trudging along with his head down, was caught off guard by Nevia’s question.

“Well…”

“How about this?” Nevia beamed, dimples appearing on her cheeks. “I blocked those Undead for you, right? Just admit I won.”

Staring at the little girl’s radiant smile, Kaelen nearly gave in. But bitter memories warned him: surrender now, and peace would vanish forever.

“I came out first,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. Instant regret followed—he’d flinched when danger struck, and shame burned his throat.

“Hmm?” Nevia’s eyes crinkled with deeper amusement. “Really?”

“Uh… how about a draw?” Kaelen suggested weakly.

“No way! I’m the winner!”

“But we raced to see who’d leave the mine first—I was ahead!”

“If not for me, Kaelen, the Undead would’ve eaten you alive!”

“Th-that doesn’t count!” The boy dug in stubbornly. Nevia’s smile tightened. *Typical…*

“People like you just need—”

Before she finished, Kaelen snapped upright, hands raised defensively.

Too late. Her fist materialized before his eyes. *Thud.* Another bruise bloomed beside his barely healed black eye.

“Hssk…” Kaelen winced.

“—a good lesson to remember who runs this neighborhood!” Nevia froze. *Did I say that out loud?* She glanced at Sevyn. He turned away, murmuring, “Lovely weather today.” Nina wore a knowing smile.

*Forget it.* Nevia met Kaelen’s shocked stare.

“So it *is* true!” His face darkened ominously.

*Might makes right. The ancients knew best,* Nevia thought grimly, clenching her fist with “reluctance.”

Back to square one.

“Lovely weather today,” Sevyn sighed again, for reasons unknown.

“Mhm!” Nina nodded, ignoring the muffled cries behind her.

After their “joyful” outing, Nevia trudged home beside Nina, dreading what came next. Covered in mine dust and sweat from their “exercise,” she knew her mother would be furious.

*Sneak in through the back door?* Impossible—Mother would be sipping tea in the hall, and the stairs passed right through it. *Ask Nina to distract her? Or fetch clean clothes?* Nevia groaned inwardly. *She’d sell me out in a heartbeat.*

Her head throbbed. Just imagining Mother’s wrath made her shiver. *Save me…*

Passing the river, Nevia halted abruptly.

“What’s wrong?” Nina asked.

“I need to wash up first.”

“Bathe?” Nina blurted.

“Eh? No!” Nevia waved frantically. *Who bathes in the wild? That’s mortifying!* “Just my face.” She pointed to her smudged cheeks.

At the riverbank, Nevia splashed cool water over her face. Ripples danced in the gentle light. Memories of past riverside antics flashed—warm but embarrassing.

Drying her face, she caught Nina’s gaze. Both girls flushed crimson.

“L-let’s hurry back! Aunt must be worried!” Nina stammered.

*You’re overthinking it,* Nevia thought, but nodded eagerly.

As expected, Mother and Celia sat in the sunlit hall, sipping tea and chatting idly. *They get along too well,* Nevia mused uneasily.

Beside Nina’s bright smile, Nevia’s pitiful expression stood out starkly.

Mother set down her teacup. Her fingers tapped lightly against the table—a telltale sign of anger. Nevia’s smile froze.

“No explanation?”

“Mama, it was an accident…” Nevia pleaded, wide-eyed like a startled fawn.

“Oh?” Mother’s tone stayed calm. “You’ve had many ‘accidents’ this month.”

“…”

Mother’s eyes narrowed. Every cell in Nevia’s body screamed *danger*. She swallowed hard. “It’s just… early spring makes me restless…”

“Sorry,” Nevia whispered. Mother’s expression darkened. Resigned, Nevia bowed her head—then felt a hand on her hair.

She braced for a thump. Instead, slender fingers flicked her forehead gently. The other hand stroked her head.

“You,” Mother murmured, studying Nevia’s bright eyes, “are such a handful.”