Morning light spilled over Lumaire’s outer walls, gold and soft, catching in the high windows of the city and finding its way to Eis’s eyes.

  She woke at once.

  Her body came alert before her thoughts fully did, breath steady, senses already orienting. For a few seconds she lay still, listening—to distant carts, to voices rising from the street below, to the unfamiliar but increasingly recognizable rhythm of the city.

  No summons.

  No mission horn.

  No expectation waiting at the edge of her awareness.

  Team Argent hadn’t invited her out today.

  That left her with options.

  The guild board.

  The Grand Archive.

  Training yards.

  Or simply walking—learning the shape of Lumaire by repetition.

  The thought settled quickly. She needed to return the book she had borrowed.

  Eis rose and dressed in simpler clothes than she wore on the road, practical and unobtrusive. Dust motes drifted lazily through the air as she moved, disturbed only briefly before settling again.

  Outside, the cobbled streets were already alive.

  Vendors lifted shutters and called greetings to one another. The smell of herbs and fresh bread threaded through the air. Lumaire felt awake in a way that didn’t demand urgency—only participation.

  Eis paused at a bakery and bought a loaf still warm from the oven. The heat soaked pleasantly into her hands as she broke off a piece for breakfast, then continued on toward the Grand Archive.

  The building rose quiet and patient at the heart of the district.

  After returning the book, she wandered the shelves until a single title caught her eye.

  Modern Cuisine.

  She took it without hesitation.

  Eis found a seat tucked away from the main aisles and read in silence, turning pages slowly, absorbing more than recipes—notations on regional ingredients, preservation methods, small cultural details embedded between instructions.

  Hours passed.

  The stillness was unfamiliar, but not uncomfortable. No pressure to move. No looming threat demanding her attention. Just choice.

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  When she finally left the Archive, the sun had climbed high overhead.

  Lunch hour.

  She descended the steps and nearly collided with a familiar presence.

  “Eis?”

  She looked up.

  “Ronan.”

  He stood a few steps down, dressed more casually than usual, sword absent, posture relaxed but unchanged in its balance. It seemed Team Argent had made the same decision she had.

  A bell rang somewhere deeper in the city, marking the afternoon.

  “Care to join me for lunch?” Ronan asked. “Lira and Kael decided to pursue… separate interests today.”

  Eis inclined her head. “I’d like that.”

  “There’s a café nearby,” he said. “Best sandwiches in this district.”

  She allowed a small smile. “Lead the way.”

  Eis followed half a step behind him, observing without effort. Ronan moved the same way he always did—measured, controlled, each step identical in length and placement. Even unarmed, he carried himself like someone who was never caught unready.

  It was also the most she’d heard him speak uninterrupted. Lira and Kael usually filled the space between words.

  The café sat on the edge of the district, small but lively. A waitress moved briskly between tables, laughter and conversation rising and falling around her.

  They were seated quickly.

  Ronan tapped the menu once. “Their signature sandwich,” he said. “If you’re unsure.”

  Eis nodded, scanning the page anyway out of habit.

  Ronan glanced at her—and then had to look away.

  The light from the window caught in her pale hair where it fell over the back of the chair. Her expression was calm, focused, eyes moving steadily across the text. There was nothing deliberate about the way she held herself—and that made it worse.

  He redirected his attention to the menu, jaw tightening slightly.

  She was a capable adventurer. A new ally. Someone who worked well with his team. That was all. Anything else was distraction.

  The waitress arrived before the silence stretched too far.

  “Ready to order?”

  They both ordered the same sandwich.

  When the food arrived, the pause broke naturally.

  The sandwich lived up to Ronan’s promise—warm bread, layered flavors, filling without being heavy. Eis ate quietly, attentive, clearly enjoying it without comment.

  “This is good,” she said finally.

  Ronan allowed himself a small nod. “The best I’ve eaten.”

  They finished without hurry, conversation minimal but comfortable. When they stood to leave, the city had shifted again—afternoon easing toward evening.

  Ronan walked with Eis toward the inn without being asked.

  Mana lanterns flickered on as the light faded, casting warm reflections across the stone streets. He carried the small bundle of her belongings without remark, matching her pace as they moved through the calmer avenues.

  The Blue Lantern Inn appeared ahead.

  Eis inclined her head. “Thank you. For today.”

  He paused, then smiled—small, genuine. “Rest well.”

  She closed the door behind her gently.

  The room was quiet. Familiar now.

  Eis set her things down and sat on the edge of the bed, letting the day settle.

  For once, nothing demanded her attention.

  And that, she realized, was its own kind of gift.