Vera’s eyes opened when she felt movement beside her. Morning light filtered through the window, carrying the faint sound of birdsong and the wind stirring leaves outside.

  She let herself stay still for a while, breathing. She was… tired.

  But that was fine.

  She still didn’t quite trust herself to sleep with Serel next to her, especially not with the emotional hurricane that had been yesterday. It wasn’t ideal, but lying there, watching Serel rest, had been enough to let her relax. And one night without sleep wouldn’t hurt much. It was a small price to pay to see the girl like this.

  Her head turned to take in Serel’s sleeping face again. The girl was tucked against her side like a small, warm weight.

  She hadn’t thought something this quiet or ordinary could affect her the way it did. It wasn’t long ago that she’d been the kind of person who got restless after sitting still for five minutes. Now she’d stayed awake through half a night, content to just watch her daughter breathe.

  A soft laugh escaped her, earning a tiny sound of protest from Serel.

  “Mmm…” the girl murmured, shifting closer and tightening her arms around Vera.

  “You know,” Vera said, voice low, “I can tell when you’re pretending to sleep.”

  Serel froze.

  Vera laughed quietly again. “Too lazy to get up, are we?”

  Silence lingered a few seconds before the silver-haired head pressed against her side shifted, and two wide eyes peeked up at her with a hint of hesitancy in them.

  Vera freed one arm and ran her fingers through the girl’s hair until it tangled. That earned her a pout as Serel squirmed away, trying to save it. “Mommy, stop…!”

  Vera smiled. “Alright.”

  She watched with patient amusement as the girl fussed with her hair.

  “Hey, Serel,” she said after a moment.

  The girl looked back at her.

  “You know… that I love you, right?”

  Serel was silent.

  Vera’s smile held. It was the first time in her life that she’d ever used that word. It felt strange, hearing herself say that. It wasn’t the kind of sentiment that she really… went for. It was plenty scary, honestly.

  But she didn’t mind that.

  “…And you also know I’m a bit different from the mom you remember, don’t you?”

  Serel didn’t answer right away. She just watched her, then gave a small nod.

  Vera reached out again, smoothing her hair more gently this time. “It must’ve been scary. Not knowing what was happening.”

  Serel said nothing, just edged closer and hid her face against Vera’s shoulder.

  “I’m still figuring myself out,” Vera said. “But both the me that was and the me that is—we care about you. Neither of us is letting go. Like I said, you’re stuck with me until you’re old and crotchety.”

  “Mmm. Okay…” Serel mumbled against her. Then, quieter, “…I love you too, Mommy.”

  A warm feeling gripped Vera’s chest tightly.

  They stayed like that for a while, listening to the quiet, until suddenly, Serel’s stomach growled. The girl went still.

  Vera didn’t even try to hide her laugh. “Hungry, are you? What a shame. Caldrin’s not here to make breakfast.”

  Serel pulled away, cheeks flushing pink. “You’re a meanie!”

  Vera raised her brows. “Is that so? Sounds like your stomach’s the traitor here. Where’d you even learn to be embarrassed about that, anyway? I didn’t teach you that, did I?”

  Serel turned away, quickly crawling past the pile of plushies and slipping out from the sheets. A soft thud followed as her feet hit the floor, and then she spun back, stuck out her tongue—an act that Vera found dangerously cute—and darted from the room. A moment later, the door to her own room opened and shut.

  Vera stayed where she was, looking after her with a faint smirk.

  It struck her that both times Serel had slept beside her here, Vera had teased her out of the room the next morning. Maybe it was a bad habit she’d end up developing.

  She didn’t particularly care to stop it, though.

  Chuckling, she got out of bed and stretched, glancing out the window. The morning light swept across the slope of the mountain behind the estate, glinting off leaves and climbing vines. She looked down at her clothes, suddenly reminded of how messy they were.

  Which wasn’t a surprise. She’d essentially played demolition contractor during her fight with Veyrith, and it would’ve been impossible not to get dirty throughout all of that. It was unfortunate that she didn’t have any fancy magic to clean up. She had gotten the worst of it off, but she still felt grimy.

  Maybe it would have been worth slipping out during the night to bathe, but she didn’t want to leave Serel.

  Now, though, a proper bath was non-negotiable before anything else.

  Vera left her room and leaned against the wall outside Serel’s, arms crossed as she listened to the sounds from inside. After a few minutes, the girl appeared, now dressed in a loose linen shift. Vera raised an eyebrow, and when she asked if Serel planned to bathe, the girl’s eyes went wide before she vanished back inside, only to reappear moments later with another outfit in hand, practically dragging Vera toward the bathhouse.

  They stayed there for the better part of half an hour, soaking in the warm water. Vera let the heat unwind her muscles while Serel amused herself by shaping soap foam into mountains and tiny figures, covering her own hair in bubbles. The absurd normalcy of it all helped smooth away the chaos of the previous day. All of those things faded under the simplicity of this moment, watching Serel’s laughter ripple against the still surface of the water.

  When they finally stepped out of the bath, they both changed into fresh clothes. Vera had more than enough extra sets of clothes-like armor in her wardrobe that had a decent balance between practicality and form without looking too over the top.

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  Next, they went to the dining chamber, where Vera decided to test how much of her cooking skills remained in this world. It took time to locate everything in the kitchen—the grain, the salt, the stove—but she eventually managed to produce something that looked close enough to porridge and found a few slices of bread to go with it.

  Serel had her… opinions. Rather unfairly, she compared it to Caldrin’s cooking and was unimpressed, but Vera didn’t let that discourage her. The girl was six and had never eaten anywhere fancy. Vera, on the other hand, had technically eaten at two Michelin-starred restaurants, which, by her reasoning, made her the undisputed expert. She even said as much, earning another endearingly cute sticking-out of the tongue, followed by a curious, “What’s a Meecheleen?”

  Vera was midway through giving a very basic explanation of restaurant ratings while also trying to figure out what to replace her attempt at porridge with when footsteps approached. A moment later, an older man with wisps of white hair slicked across his scalp and a magnificent, curled mustache shuffled into the room, a frown tugging at his face.

  “Is that burnt oats I smell?” Korrin sniffed. “No, no, no, this won’t do. This won’t do at all.”

  Vera blinked at him.

  Oh. Right. Caldrin had brought him here last night to keep him safe after giving him an Emberphial. She’d remembered that vaguely when she returned, but it had slipped her mind during the morning.

  The old barber ambled across the dining room with that oddly nimble gait of his despite his hunch, muttering under his breath. “An entire great mansion to yourself and still can’t be bothered to hire a cook? I see your hair isn’t the only thing in neglect.” He wagged a bony finger at Serel. “Little lass, remember! First—care for your hair! Second—keep your home! And third—” he gestured toward the bowls of gray porridge cooling on the table, “—your food!”

  Serel nodded seriously. “Mmm. Okay.”

  Vera looked between them. She felt she was being unfairly judged here.

  Korrin didn’t seem to notice—or care—as he shook his head and tottered into the adjoining kitchen. Pots clattered soon after.

  “Little lass!” his voice called from within. “Do you like eggs?”

  “I love eggs!” Serel answered instantly.

  “Good, good!”

  Vera sighed, nibbling at a piece of bread while Serel went over to a cupboard to fetch some of her drawing implements and began sketching at the table. Vera ended up sitting beside her daughter, quietly offering advice on the wobbly lines Serel was producing while trying to ignore the growing smell from the kitchen.

  When Korrin returned, he carried a tray loaded with steaming bowls that held fried eggs, proper porridge, and slices of toasted bread that glistened with jam that Vera swore hadn’t been in there when she looked. He set everything down with surprising care.

  Vera eyed the spread, then tried the porridge first. It was, admittedly, better than hers.

  In her defense, she hadn’t cooked a proper meal in over three years, and the stove here was much harder to use than the electric ones she was used to.

  Serel clearly approved, humming contentedly between mouthfuls while Korrin watched with satisfaction. “Excellent, little lassie! Keep eating well and you’ll grow strong, sharp, and full of life!”

  “Stronger than Mommy?” Serel asked.

  Korrin paused, touching the end of his mustache. “Hmm. A tricky one. But yes, I’ll say so! With good food, fine hair, and ambition, what is there that you can’t do?”

  Serel giggled, and even Vera found herself smiling.

  He turned to her. “Ah, that reminds me, big lass! Forgive an old fool, but I must’ve taken a knock to the head, because I’ve no memory of how I ended up here.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “And what in Erelseth’s trims have you done to your hair? The ends are all frayed to ruin! You didn’t kidnap me to fix that, did you? I’ll have you know I only touch hair within The Hallowed Shear!”

  Vera paused, spoon halfway to her mouth. “…No, I didn’t kidnap you.”

  “No? Well, good. I might’ve been a real scrapper in my youth, but I’d be hard-pressed to tussle with the Ashborn Ascendant with these brittle bones.” He chuckled to himself. “But you really ought to take better care of your hair! I don’t care how many Bindings you’ve got rattling around.”

  “…Sure. I’ll keep that in mind,” Vera said.

  “See that you do.” The old man grinned, showing the few teeth he had left, and shoveled a spoonful of porridge into his mouth. “So, what’d I miss?”

  Vera eyed him for a bit. “…Quite a bit, actually. You were knocked unconscious when a powerful entity went after Serel. Caldrin brought you here to keep you safe. I did manage to get Serel back, though.”

  “Hoh? Good job, lassie. Nothing more important than keeping your blood and kin safe.” He gestured with his spoon. “And that business you were hollering about before? The missing nobles and all that—did you find them?”

  “That…” Vera hesitated. “It’s complicated. A Silent Lord and the Pale Reconciliation attacked Marrowfen yesterday. The whole city’s a mess right now.”

  The man blinked at her. “Huh. That’s not good, is it. Did you kill that Silent Lord fellow, then?”

  “I… did, yes.”

  “Well, that’s something. Good on you.” He went back to eating.

  Vera frowned. “…You’re not worried about what happened to the city?”

  “What’s the use frettin’ over what’s already been cut?” He paused, eyes flicking to her. “Unless you’re tellin’ me my shop got burned down.”

  She shook her head. “No, it’s fine.”

  “Then what’s there to fuss about?” He hunched over his bowl. “My kids and their little ones packed off to Thornequay years back, and with the old lady gone, the Shear’s about all I’ve got left. Marrowfen’s been through the razor before. Long as the folk are still breathin’, it’ll be right back up and standing.”

  Vera watched him, a little impressed by the calm. She wondered if it came with age, or if it was just Korrin being… well, him. Still, it was a pragmatism she could respect, even if she doubted he was as unconcerned about Marrowfen’s fate as he pretended.

  Breakfast carried on in relative peace. When they finished, Korrin declared that Vera would be doing the dishes—”as any elder-respecting lass should”—and Serel joined in, finding some joy in the novelty of scrubbing and drying the bowls.

  Once that was done, Vera brought them back to The Hallowed Shear using the Hearthbind Token. Korrin immediately began inspecting every corner of the shop to make sure nothing had been broken or stolen, and seemed content with what he found.

  After exchanging a few words with Korrin—and confirming they’d deal with “repairing that poor mistreated hair” later—Vera took her leave with Serel.

  The city streets were noticeably emptier and quieter than usual. Whether that meant people simply weren’t around or were just staying inside, Vera couldn’t tell. Here and there, they did spot a few citizens, but none that paid them much mind. Still, Vera kept her hood up, her arms covered, and her hair darkened to a raven-gloss black by the dye.

  She could confirm that, at least in the parts of the city they initially passed through, there was very little damage to the buildings. That didn’t surprise her, though. She’d made sure most of her fight with Veyrith took place outside Marrowfen, and when she’d hunted down the remaining Tetherborn, they had been concentrated in only a few key locations. A few hundred total, dangerous as they were, weren’t enough to destroy a city overnight.

  That said, there were some visible reminders of the fighting. Along the northern quay, they passed several buildings that were only barely staying upright, with traces of blood on the stone. Serel grew quieter as she saw this, her small hand slipping into Vera’s. Vera didn’t say anything, just squeezed back.

  Eventually, they reached the basin that marked the Hollowstone district, where the Hollowstone Table was located. The dark building also bore some scars, but it wasn’t too bad considering this was the headquarters of Marrowfen’s local Chapter.

  Entering the building while holding Serel’s hand, she was surprised by how many people there were inside. The air was heavy with the sound of low conversation, and dozens sat around the massive table of polished marrowstone at the center.

  Several heads turned toward them.

  She recognized one of them—the large man who’d tried to pick a fight with her during her first visit here. What was his name? Arder? Ardor?

  No, Arbor. That was it.

  His eyes widened when he saw her and Serel, but he quickly looked away once he realized she’d noticed him.

  Vera stayed near the entrance for a while, scanning the room. Then she leaned down to Serel. “These are the people who fought to save the city yesterday,” she said quietly. “Why don’t you thank them?”

  The girl glanced up at her, looking uncertain at first. But then she turned forward and lifted her hand in a shy wave. “Thank you…!”

  The room went still. Nearly every pair of eyes shifted to her.

  Vera thought she saw a few tired smiles flicker around the table.

  Then footsteps thundered. A door at the far end slammed open, and the broad figure of Vanded Blazegrip strode in, his voice already filling the room. “Mournvale, you’re here! Is that your daughter you’ve brought? Come here, introduce her to Uncle Vanded!”

  The room fell completely silent.

  At the table, Arbor’s face went pale.

  Vera stared at Vanded.

  For a brief, incredibly vivid moment, she imagined throwing him out the nearest window. But since this place didn’t have any, maybe she’d create one in the process.