Chapter Text
“Really!? He apologized?”
While Ogma’s lesson was informative, Jubelo craved a more familiar form of enrichment. Books were what he and Yuliya were used to, and until now they always preceded direct application. Maybe he could find something more Grustian… as their prince, his swordsmanship ought to look the part. Ogma promised to help him work through any supplements after all, and with Khadein’s proximity its libraries might hold what he sought. He knew from experience how vastly these archives stretched.
Dame Kris and Princess Caeda were happy to help, and the latter shared more good news on the way. “Yes, I was there too. It was through the door and he’s still not on full speaking terms, but Linde is more convinced he’s serious about reforming,” she explained. She wasn’t thrilled to learn what went missing though… better you not hear that.
His smile widened. “That’s great! I’m so glad he means it!”
“So are we! And I was happy to learn you were behind it! He says your words were what made him see the error of his ways.”
Jubelo’s cheeks warmed up. “Really? I… I didn’t think I’d have that effect.”
“Sometimes our words do more than we anticipate. I think it’s great that you inspire this kind of change, Crown Prince of Grust,” she complimented, flustering him further.
Kris added, “We all surprise ourselves sometimes! While my Grandfather had high expectations, I never thought I’d be the Royal Guard so soon. Nor did I expect our first mission would end up like this.”
“I know. That’s something Ryan shared: none of you thought you’d be gone for so long.”
“Did he now?” She exchanged a pleased look with Caeda. “It’s great that you’re becoming such good friends! But I don’t want to sidetrack this too much. There’s something I’ve been missing to ask you, Prince… what do you think about Arlen? As a teacher, friend, you name it.”
Jubelo spent a minute contemplating his response. “Well, he’s not outwardly nice. Strict, aloof, grouchy… my sister would use harsher words. But he does care! He looks out for us when Master Wendell is busy, and he’s attentive to our needs. Sometimes more than Merric… in fact, I prefer him as an instructor. His tougher methods helped push me when I needed it most, and it’s easier to stay on track with him.”
Kris nodded. “I see. That’s close to the impression I got.”
“…You talked with him too?”
“Of course! As the Royal Guard, it’s my duty to understand every soldier under Prince Marth’s employ to some degree. Especially those who pull stunts like his… he was quite dismissive when we talked. I tried to let it slide, for now,” she replied, showing slight annoyance. “He also brought up Merric a handful of times. That was strange… I could tell he has some disdain, but, not entirely.”
“There is definitely more to his feelings than hatred for Merric,” Caeda ascertained.
“Yeah. He even took notes for Merric while he was at Altea.”
Kris mulled, “Really? That sounds unusually kind of him…”
“Merric’s spoken positively of Arlen when he was home. He shows a great deal of consideration for all he scoffs at our ideals. I think he admires Merric more than he’s willing to admit.”
She tilted her head. “Hm. I suppose that explains a lot. But why can’t he be more straightforward?”
“Arlen was an orphan before Wendell took him in. That’s probably why he’s so distrustful, and why Merric receiving Excalibur made him feel threatened,” Caeda elaborated. “Both have tried to help, but I don’t think they were equipped to solve his troubles. He is far from a lost cause, though. Maybe an earlier intervention could have avoided this…”
While Caeda trailed off, Jubelo caught two voices in an adjacent room, the first sounding like Sir Sirius:
“…so I have a mind to see this expedition to its conclusion.”
“Is that so? Well, it’s your funeral if you don’t make it back.”
This section of the school was lined with study chambers – small side rooms where students could gather in semi-privacy without returning to their dorms. Chambers on this floor were doorless, and he quickly found the knight by peeking through one of the archways. “Um, Sir Sirius?”
He stopped his conversation and glanced to the prince. “…Prince Jubelo. Is something amiss?”
“Oh, no. I just heard you… sorry if I was interrupting.”
“Eh, don’t worry about it. We were just about finishing up.”
That casual response came from a boy a few years older with messy, light blonde, almost white hair. He pulled a green cloak over it as he stood and collected his things; Jubelo briefly glimpsed a dark violet outfit beneath it. His expression seemed bored and kept eye contact to a minimum as he weaved past the prince to leave. “Excuse me kid,” was all he said.
Jubelo wasn’t sure what to make of him. He looked to Caeda and Kris in confusion, then back to Sirius. “Who was that? A friend of yours?”
“A fellow traveler I chanced upon before. He’s not the most talkative, but we had a decent conversation,” Sirius replied. “Now, is there anything I can do for you?”
“Oh, no. I was just… passing by, is all.” He looked over his shoulder to Caeda, who gave him a smile and a permitting wave. “Really? It’s okay?”
“We already stopped. If he’ll talk to you, we can spare a few minutes.”
“Well, let me know when you’re done. I’ll wait out here.”
Hm? Jubelo was surprised to see Kris grumpily slouch against the wall with her arms crossed. He knew she distrusted the masked knight, but today it seemed more severe. When he raised an eyebrow to Caeda she cautiously muttered, “She had a bad experience with him the other day. Shhhh…”
“O-okay… I’ll, try not to be long, Kris.”
She didn’t answer, so he gave up and entered, followed by Caeda. Sirius gestured to the chairs across the table, and Jubelo’s was still warm when he took his seat. They sat in silence a few seconds until the knight asked, “So what brings you here, Prince Jubelo? Princess Caeda?”
“Ah. We were heading to the library with Kris to find books on swordsmanship.”
“Dame Kris is with you too?”
“She’s waiting right outside. Don’t mind her, she doesn’t want to talk right now,” Caeda explained.
After a quick “Ah” from Sirius, Jubelo whispered, “Iiiif, you don’t mind me asking…”
“She challenged me to a duel after a slight yesterday, and I knocked her off her feet with one move. She didn’t take her loss well,” the knight quietly elaborated.
“Oh… I’d say you must be strong, but after seeing you rout all those pirates I’m not surprised.”
“Let’s change the subject before she catches on,” Caeda warned with a hiss. Any longer and she expected aggravated thumping outside.
“Agreed.” Raising his voice again, Sirius inquired, “Then you seek enrichment beyond Ogma’s lessons?”
“Mhm. It’s not that he’s a bad teacher, I… just like to learn by the book too.”
Caeda added, “Ogma learned purely by instruction and Talys had little literature until Altea’s knights arrived. I learned it all by doing when he first taught me too.”
“I see. A wise move; sometimes literature can teach you things practice cannot,” he commended. “Still, if I may ask: what do you think of Ogma’s instruction so far, and of wielding the sword?”
“I like it! All we did was practices stances, but just holding the sword feels… empowering. Although, I’m still getting used to the sword’s weight.” And if his sister’s soreness was any indication, he’d feel the burn too when lessons got more intense.
“Such is the nature of weapons. With practice your body will grow accustomed to the weight, and you’ll eventually wield bigger and heavier blades with ease.”
“I know, it’s the same with magic! Studying and practice helped me control bigger, hotter flames! Maybe when I’m stronger I’ll be able to wield a broadsword, like Ogma!” Jubelo started swinging his arms, mimicking the motions excitedly. “Swinging this big, heavy blade like it was a stick, and… o-oh…”
It was then he noticed Caeda giggling. He dropped his act, dipped his chin blushing heavily and murmured, “…uh, sorry. Th-th-thaaat might be too much…”
She stopped herself and assured, “No, I’m sorry Jubelo. It’s cute to picture you wielding a giant sword like you say, but I’m not doubting you’ll do it someday. In a couple years there might be a growth spurt waiting for you, and even with a smaller stature you can accomplish great feats! For an archer his size, Gordin pulls impressive draw weights.”
“It’s as Princess Caeda says. You are currently in your most formative years. Apply yourself now and you will rise to the occasion when you are in your prime.”
“R-right. Thanks. Although, I have a lot of time to make up…”
When the prince’s mood remained downcast, Caeda quickly picked up on it. He’s thinking about that again, isn’t he… she scooched her chair closer to pat his shoulder. Sirius too observed his stupor and inquired, “If I am not intruding… what happened to you, Prince Jubelo?”
“Yuliya and I were taken hostage. Kept by this wicked sorcerer for three years to force our kingdom onto the wrong side. Three years passed before we saw the sun again… hic!”
He became too choked up to continue. Caeda held him snugly while trying not to cry herself. “Shh. It’s okay Jubelo, that’s in the past… sir, Jubelo and Yuliya were kept in deplorable conditions. Locked in a dark cell, barely nourished enough to survive. Sniffle… wh-when we finally rescued them, they were on the verge of death. If, we arrived… nnn… just an hour later, they…”
“I’m so sorry, Little Prince…”
Sirius’s tone surprised both royals. It sounded awfully sincere, as if he carried guilt over the incident, and they saw him tilt his mask up to wipe away tears. He soon noticed their baffled stares and said, “Forgive me. Even the strongest men have hearts that can be moved,” before hastily reaffixing his mask.
Caeda and Jubelo stared in silence for a few seconds, shifting from him to each other and then the exit. Kris wore a similar idle expression before she shied back out. After separating and returning their attention to the knight, Jubelo replied, “It’s not your fault, sir.”
“It’s none of our faults, Jubelo. And now that you know, Sir Sirius, I’ll ask that you be more sensitive about it in the future.”
“Understood. I appreciate you for telling me this, though.” Upon seeing further confusion, he clarified, “What I meant was, it helps to understand your comrades. Furthermore Prince, it shows great courage to share such events despite the trauma.”
“Uh huh…” After a protracted pause, Jubelo asked, “Now, if you don’t mind me asking, sir… how exactly did you get so strong?”
“I learned like any good knight, Prince. Basic instruction initiated us, but rising the ranks required going above and beyond. Studying the history and tactics of your forebearers, investing in your equipment and provisions, and most importantly training with your peers. They changed several times as we grew at different rates, but each one imparted his own lesson. Even if I surpassed them, I credit them a portion of my success,” he exposited with a nostalgic smile.
Caeda mentioned, “That’s how Altea’s knights and Talys’s mercenaries stay sharp. When I visited their fort I often found Marth or some combination of Cain, Abel and Draug practicing.”
Having watched Ogma spar against Lorenz and their soldiers, Jubelo couldn’t argue. “I bet you must have trained a lot. And had strong peers.”
“Yes, there were a handful in my class who could keep up. They were my most steadfast companions and fiercest rivals. And though most could not compete on our level, they became fine soldiers nonetheless,” Sirius continued. “You too have fine company, Prince Jubelo. Continue as you are and I trust you will make a fine King and Commander someday, in spite of your setbacks.”
“Mhm… thank you, sir.”
King and Commander, the title he was destined for. But how does he know? Jubelo wondered. It was exclusive to his kingdom; where did he hear it? …There was definitely something suspicious about this man. Jubelo and Yuliya felt unusually at ease with him, and why would a complete stranger be this supportive? He grew more certain this was no coincidence every time they interacted… still, it brought him too much comfort. Whatever his origins, Sirius was clearly a friend – if all he meant was to help, Jubelo wasn’t about to alienate him by asking the wrong questions.
After scratching her head over the numbers, Yuliya looked at the right page. She never expected Sir Gordin to show her Principia, even after he said it’d be out of the ordinary. This theory-riddled volume wasn’t even remotely related to warfare… still, once she focused on the illustrations, the fundamentals started clicking. “Okay, I’m beginning to see how this pertains to archery…”
“It takes some head scratching, right? I didn’t get it my first time either,” Gordin assured, tracing his finger over the diagram. “It’s important to know arrows fly because once it’s off the string, it’s out of your control. You’ll need to account for wind speed and lost energy when planning longer shots.”
“And how do you account for these variables? You don’t serious run calculations on the fly, do you?”
“It’s something you get a feel for with practice. When Master Jeorge first took me out in high wind, it was very frustrating! Then I noticed he was angling sideways and realized how to correct for it… it takes trial-and-error to gauge your shots though. Wind speed varies and a stronger draw needs it less.”
“It sounds like he doesn’t tell you everything upfront,” she observed.
“No he doesn’t, and sometimes it aggravates me. He hasn’t even told me why I’m his student!”
She raised her head with a dumbstruck look. “Seriously?”
“When Norne asked me to show her my new techniques I thought she should learn directly from him. But she came back telling me Jeorge doesn’t normally take students, and that I was a special case,” he explained. “When I asked him what that meant, he said he would tell me once I’m his equal.”
“That’s, uh… peculiar.”
He propped his elbow on the table and leaned into his open palm. “You’re telling me. It’s flattering, and it gives me something to work toward, but I’d like to know why he holds me so highly… I’m not sure I’ll even get to his level.”
“He must believe you will if he gifted you that outfit.”
Gordin perked back up. “Oh, you noticed?” He hopped out of his chair to better display the new tunic: white with green trim resembling his teacher’s style, paired with ivory-white armor pieces. “Master thought I could use something more distinguishing as Altea’s top bowman. He used white as a base to match the elite armor then added his own flair. I think the asymmetry makes it stand out!” he boasted while striking different angles. “Well, what do you think? Makes me look like more of a man?”
“I wouldn’t say man, but it’s certainly a more professional look!”
He lost his energy and sighed. “Yeah, that’s about what everybody else says.”
“With all due respect sir, ‘manly’ isn’t exactly a term you project…” She felt guilty as he slank back into his seat looking disappointed. “…I-I reiterate, though! I like the outfit!”
“I heard you the first time Princess, it’s just… me,” he lamented, propping himself on one arm again. “I’ve improved so much under Master Jeorge, and I appreciate having something to show for it! But when I don’t have that same presence and people keep mistaking me for a squire, it feels like it hasn’t paid off.”
Yuliya thought hard about something to cheer him up. She and Jubelo were also mistaken for younger, but that didn’t hold the same weight when people acknowledged their royalty. Then she considered his peers… however, she noticed a gap. Gordin seemed to be the only knight his age; Altea’s other senior knights were a few years older, while everyone else was a junior. The closest was maybe that red-haired girl she saw with him and Sir Draug with, but nobody identified her as a knight.
Although she feared she’d regret asking, curiosity got the better of her. “Say, Master Gordin. You’re the only Altean knight around Prince Marth’s age… why is that?”
“It’s because I’m the only one left out of my class.”
His hollowing tone gave her chills. “…What happened?”
“Gra happened.”
That empty line made her quiver, as did his depressing state… slouched over, head tilted all the way down, hands clasped tightly in his lap. “Graduation was only a month away. The 5th Platoon wasn’t the best, but we were excited to become proper soldiers. When Gra barged in Mitchel was the first to act. He was our captain, the strongest go-getter in our group, ready to show what we trained for. Sniffle… They cut him down in no time at all…”
Yuliya started to cry as tears escaped his cheeks. Seeing her mentor like this broke her heart – he looked so defeated as he recalled the worst days of his life.
“We felt so powerless when he went down. They locked us in our own prison, beat us for days… mmm… c-called us, demeaning names!” Gordin winced and sniffled loudly continuing. “Marley couldn’t take the abuse. Kendrik was too shell-shocked to ever lift a weapon again. Draug and I convinced Travis to give it another go, but now… well, he… …he, he’s probably with the first two now!”
Never mind how close to it hit to home. His suffering was shorter but left him so much guilt. It didn’t end there either, for he began to cringe and growl in frustration.
“Hrrrg! …I only got out because a few guards had some, sick joke to break the Prince! Dress me like an enemy and lock me in his way! Hnn… he was so horrified when he nearly ran his blade through me… if, he struck just a little higher, a little deeper, I’d cause him so much more-”
“S-stop it! Stop it! Sniff… that’s, that’s not true!”
Gordin rolled up his head and looked at her in shock while she squinted through tears. “…Yuliya?”
“None of that was your fault! They… sniff… they caught you when you couldn’t defend yourself!” she choked out before stopping to breathe. Then, in a more composed posture she clarified, “You were only fresh recruits when Gra attacked. They were the aggressor, just like Archanea is now. You were thrown into a fight you weren’t ready for. So stop beating yourself up as a failure!”
He wiped his cheeks dry and mumbled, “Yuliya… I, guess that’s true.”
“It is true. You may wish you could do more back then… so do I and Jubelo. It’s something none of us can change. But you didn’t let that keep you down. You rebuilt yourself into Altea’s foremost archer, and the 5th Platoon would be proud for it.”
A confident smile surfaced towards the end of her speech. That alongside her words brought a renewed sense of empowerment, and a grateful smile soon crossed his cheeks. “Thank you, Princess Yuliya. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that.”
“Of course. I owe it to show my teachers the respect they deserve.” Her pretentious look then shifted to curiosity, and remarked, “But, you know, I’m surprised to learned you endured that much. And you met Prince Marth in disguise while being held prisoner too?”
“…What do you mean, ‘Me too?’”
“Linde told us her story the other night. How she met Marth at Knorda.”
“Oh, that… well, she at least had the option to defend herself.”
“She said she probably wouldn’t be alive if it came to that.”
“Maybe, but at least she had a working weap-”
“Master, stop putting yourself down. It ill befits you,” she bluntly interjected.
Gordin blinked in silence a few seconds. “Okay… aaanyway, I’m glad you’re giving her a chance.”
“She’s alright… but, this isn’t about her. This is about you, me, and archery… oh, that’s another thing! You’re training me, Princess of Grust, and you already taught Ryan!”
“I did! He’s gotten quicker at the draw since he gained confidence in his aim! …To tell you the truth, I’m a little envious over how much easier he had it.”
She boasted, “Please! That’s because he has the world’s best teacher to show him!”
While her flattery initially stunned him, Gordin soon broke into giggles, followed by a chuckle. “Hahaha! That sounds like something Linde would say!”
Yuliya’s eyes popped wide, and she turned away indignantly while an angry blush formed. “Yeah, well… maybe I… …wh-why do you care!?”
“I just think she’d make a good friend for you two. She’s headstrong, practices magic, went through a lot like you, and she could use more friends right now!”
“Pfft. Fine, I guess.”
She kept looking away, fidgeting in her seat with her arms crossed. Stupid nosy Archanean. Why must you bring HER up, anyway? …Actually, why DO you? Hmmm… With that clever thought in mind, Yuliya started turning back and slyly asked, “Now what about you? Why do you care?”
“Me? Why… uh…” Gordin became anxious when he saw her smirk and realized exactly what she was implying. Oh great, not you too! “…Princess Yuliya, I-I think you are mistaken.”
“Then why do you keep pushing us towards her? So you can wiggle your way into her good graces?” she prodded, looking increasingly smug while he turned away. “And you’re bluuushiiinng…”
Ugh, I am NOT playing this game! “You’re the one who brought her up first,” he grumbled.
Yuliya’s smugness faded. She briefly stammered for an excuse, but upon realizing it was true, she turned her nose and extended her arm across. “I propose we both cut our losses. Truce?”
“Truce.”
“Truce!”
A red-haired girl with a stubby ponytail peeked in, confused over why they shook hands without facing one another. “What’re you two trucing about?”
Their eyes shot towards the archway. Both stuttered for an excuse until Yuliya explained, “We can’t tell you because we agreed not to talk about it.”
“Ah. It’s one of those things, huh?”
“Yes Norne, it’s one of ‘those things.’ Now what were you looking for?”
“I was lookin’ for you, silly! Thought ya’d be with Jeorge after Draugie said you were busy, then I hear you got yer own little apprentice!” she cheerfully replied. “Feels like you barely have time for us anymore! Shouldn’ be surprised though when yer Altea’s Master of Bows!”
He chuckled and twiddled his fingers. “Aha, come on Norne! Not that silly title! And I’m not the only one who’s improved… you’ve gotten much better since we returned to Altea!” he retorted. Meanwhile, Yuliya quietly observed how suddenly Norne turned his grouchiness gave to embarrassment. Hmm…
“Oh pshaw! I wouldn’t’a improved half as much without you showin’ me what you learned! Bet yer new student finds it useful too… you’re that Grust princess, right?”
“Correct. I am Princess Yuliya von Grunia, and what you say of Master Gordin is correct!” she bragged. That made him blush even brighter.
“Heehee! You sure instill a lot of pride, Gordie! …Anyway, I was checkin’ if you were free, but it looks like you got your hands full. Again.”
Yuliya said, “Actually, this lesson was slowing down. I think I can study on my own.”
“You sure about that, Princess? Principia is pretty abstract.”
“So? Jeorge let you squirm over it a while. White magic can be pretty abstract too.” She reached across to snatch the book and insisted, “Now go on. Have fun. Princess’s orders!”
You’re not MY liege, Princess… another look at Norne smiling beneath the archway was enough to change his mind. “…I guess I could use a break from this. If you get stuck on-”
“We can review it during our next lesson. Now get going!”
Though bothered by her pushiness, Gordin relaxed as soon as he was halfway to the exit. No surprise with how heated their conversation got at the end. You heard me. Go. Spend time with your girlfriend, Yuliya teased in her head, pretending to read a minute. Once she could no longer hear them, she grabbed her Rescue staff and began the long walk back to her dwellings. I can’t keep him to myself ALL the time. He needs a chance to be himself… just like you, Brother.
Yes, that was another positive development. While the crisis in Grust caused a relapse, she and Jubelo spent more time apart since they joined Prince Marth. Between renewed magical studies, the 7th Platoon, and now training under Ogma, she could count on him to grow as his own person. Good. No more coddling you everywhere. You still have a long way to go before being our king, though…
“Oh. Hello, Princess Yuliya.”
That passive-aggressive tone didn’t bode well. Neither did the singular mage in a simple blue cloak heading her way. Especially when she spotted Archanea’s coat of arms on the fastener… Yuliya’s grip tightened on the staff and she began walking in the other direction. It was just a casual greeting. Just keep walking, she considered. But the footsteps continued from behind, even as she hastened hers, and she felt sweat form in the usual pockets.
Eventually she lost her patience, stopped and turned to confront him. “What’s your problem?! Don’t you realize how rude it is to follow someone uninvited?”
He gave a curt, faux bow of the head and replied, “Oh. Forgive me Princess, I was wondering if you knew of a good friend of mine. Russel is his name. He was deployed in Grust, and I haven’t heard-”
“How should I know!? I didn’t know the names of any of Lang’s peons!”
“Then perhaps you’ll tell me why you are here?”
Shivers rolled down her spine. Now she knew he meant trouble, and resuming slow footsteps towards her while she backpedaled reinforced the obvious. He stoically explained, “Therein lies the problem. I was under the impression you were being reeducated with your peop-”
“Reeducation my posterior! That cretin tried to usurp our kingdom for his own! He got what he deserved, along with everyone backing him!”
“Ah, so that’s why we Russel hasn’t written in weeks.”
Yuliya gulped. Shit… me and my big mouth. The mage’s pace doubled while his brow folded into a sterner glare. She pointed Rescue out defensively and warned, “Stay… stay back! I swear! O-o-or, I’ll…!”
“Or what? Wave a staff with no offensive capability? That reckless defiance is precisely what we sought to help you unlearn,” he irritably mocked as he closed the gap. Yuliya was too shaken with fear to hustle. “Perhaps I should teach you a lesson in Russel’s memory. Deliver you to Sir Astram’s Free Company, then we can find you another ward who will pick up where-”
“And just what are you implying?”
They stopped and looked towards another mage approaching down a perpendicular hall. Yuliya couldn’t be less thrilled when she confirmed it was him… her assailant, however, appeared more jovial. “Ah, good day Lord Arlen! I was… errm…”
His confidence wavered when Arlen stomped past the princess and grimaced at him. Yuliya gladly took the opportunity to shuffle behind him for safety. “Have you forgotten that Princess Yuliya and Prince Jubelo are the Archbishop’s esteemed guests?” he berated.
The mage tried to save face and answered, “W-why, of course! However, I understand that Archanea and Khadein are close allies, and as such-”
“Then you must also understand Khadein exists outside the politics of other nations. Master Wendell was already cross with Archanea’s meddling, and I’ll not be fooled again.” He raised a fist crackling with electricity and threatened, “But if you insist on overstepping your limits, then how about I throw you back to Sir Astram? You can tell him how you failed and… yeah, you heard me! SCRAM!!”
Yuliya could breathe easily again when the unruly mage fled without another word. Arlen crossed his arms and let out a seething snarl. “Fucking vultures.”
“What’s going on?!”
Gordin came running back down the opposite hallway followed by Norne. Arlen saw his accusatory scowl and stated, “Don’t give me that look, archer. An Archanean agent was harassing the Princess.”
Yuliya stepped in front and affirmed, “It’s true! Arlen was, protecting me from him.”
His expression softened. “Oh… well, thank you for that, Arlen.”
“Hmph. Whatever. Unwelcome guests won’t be tolerated, that’s all.”
Gratitude and good deeds did not prevent Arlen from departing his usual grumpy self. Once he was around the corner, Gordin rolled his eyes to Norne and mumbled, “So much for appreciation.”
“Why even bother? You know niceties are wasted on him,” Yuliya quipped.
Norne replied, “He still helped you. A good deed deserves some acknowledgement.”
“Especially if he’s serious about reforming. And it sounded like that heckler was giving you a hard time.”
There was more to his suspicion than what he heard. Yuliya’s behavior reinforced it: she apprehensively stared down that same hallway while conceding, “Mmm… you make a fair point.”
“Do you want us to escort you back to-”
“Yes! Please! I, realize I’m not as safe here as I should be!”
It was embarrassing that she needed an escort in her home away from home, or that Grust’s heirs still relied on others for protection. But Yuliya knew shame was preferable to harm or capture, and after learning Archanea still had teeth here she wouldn’t shun her protectors. Being flanked by Altean guards helped her calm down, as did Master Wendell assuring they would take further precautions. Although reluctant to admit it, Jubelo was right: Arlen is serious about reforming this time, and that massive favor restored some of her lost trust.