The next morning at the Evandriel Inn, pale light slipped through the windows, carving a thin stripe across the room's floor. The air in the living room was thick with broth, bread, and boiled herbs—too warm, too heavy.
Moriana, Hyran, Gord, Veda, and Yulia sat around the dining table. Clay plates lay untouched. Cups steamed. Moriana held her spoon midair. It shook in her fingers.
Suddenly, the front door creaked open.
Zarius entered first, his coat dusted with the grime of night. Four men followed him—broad-shouldered, rough, their faces bruised and cracked by the cold.
He clapped once.
"Come on, boys. Get it done before afternoon. Lunch is on me."
Veda recoiled as they passed toward the stairs, lifting a hand to her nose.
"Where the hell did you get them?"
Zarius didn't slow. He tilted his head back slightly.
"I found them sleeping in the alleys behind the salt market."
For a brief moment, his eyes slid toward Yulia. She cradled a green cup in both hands. Steam brushed her pale cheek as she drank, calm and quiet.
At the far end of the table, Hyran ate in silence, his fangs tearing through bread. Gord didn't eat at all. His gaze stayed fixed on Zarius.
Moriana broke the tension, her voice low and rough.
"Zarius… leave them. Sit. The food's getting cold."
Something flickered across his face—guilt, sharp and brief—then vanished beneath a practiced smile.
"I'd rather not," he said lightly. "Those bastards might grow hands."
Veda leaned towards him.
"I already moved all of Moriana's stuff to my room."
Moriana tapped the empty chair beside her.
"Sit your half-breed ass down. What's with the theatrics this early? You didn't sleep well last night."
Zarius exhaled, long enough to count as surrender. He barked over his shoulder,
"Don't step out of line. And keep it down."
He sat beside Moriana, his right arm resting along the back of her chair. His face settled into polished calm. Gord didn't blink.
They ate in near silence—the scrape of spoons, the hiss of steam. Then Gord finally spoke.
"Half-breed. What were you doing in the princess's room last night?"
Zarius lifted his cup slowly, unbothered.
"If I were you, I wouldn't ask such an embarrassing question."
The cup stopped just short of his lips. Gord's gaze dropped to the back of Zarius's hand. The skin was depigmented. Pale patches spread outward—stark, raw, and wrong.
"What happened to your hand?" Gord asked with his usual monotone voice. "It was fine yesterday."
Zarius chuckled under his breath.
"Oh dear, am I under arrest now?"
No one laughed.
Moriana's attention was consumed by the spoon resting between her fingers, trying to steady it. Her hand shook harder.
Zarius noticed that Veda was staring at him in a daze, but no one else was hooked to what's happening. He set his cup down and stretched, deliberately casual.
"What, Veda? You picturing me fucking her?"
A single bead of sweat traced a path down the side of his face.
"Hey. Back me up here."
She lifted the spoon, swallowed, then blinked as if surfacing from deep water.
"Hmm? Did you say something, Zarius?"
Zarius pressed a hand to his forehead.
Moriana dipped her spoon again. Her hand fluttered. The spoon slipped. Hot soup spilled across her lap.
She gasped, anger flashing before pain took over.
"Damn it… I barely managed to dress myself."
Her body trembled as she tried to move. "Veda—help—I'm burning down there."
Veda was on her feet instantly. She soaked a cloth and pressed it gently to Moriana's lap, wiping away the mess.
Moriana sagged with a shaky breath.
"That's better… sorry, Veda."
"Let me take you to the bathroom," Veda said, setting the towel aside. "I'll get you changed so you don't catch cold."
Moriana flushed.
"N... No—no, Veda. I'm fine."
Yulia set her cup on the table and leaned back, stretching her arms out with a nonchalant air.
"No need for that, Veda," she said while yawning.
"Who would ever put their mouth there now?"
Veda moved closer instead, lifting the spoon to Moriana's lips.
"Don't apologize. I've got you."
When the shaking eased, Moriana turned sharply toward Gord.
"Hey, young man. You should be thanking Zarius, not interrogating him. I felt him by my side trying to help."
Then she turned and looked at Zarius with a smile.
"Thank you, Zarius. And forgive the mess I've made. I'll make it up to you."
Zarius stiffened. This time, the guilt dug in deep.
"N–no need. Really, think nothing of it. In the end... this is—"
His eyes flicked to Hyran. Then to Yulia, watching him closely.
"—our home... All of us."
Hyran shoved his chair back as he stood, the scrape cutting off Zarius's last words. His face twisted in disgust as he turned away.