"Morning, Lucas. Awake so soon?"

  I had barely stirred when I realised she was already curled up under the blanket, eyes wide open, clearly lost in thought.

  "Brigid! Morning. How are you up so early?"

  "Too much on my mind," she sighed as we conducted our secret conference in silence. "Do you think I should tell Mother and Ennie? Now that Father knows, it feels wrong to keep them in the dark. Mother already suspects something, but I don't know if telling her the truth will only make her worry more."

  "Wow… heavy stuff first thing in the morning." I groaned. "And this world doesn’t even have coffee!"

  "Ennie will probably just laugh and think it's exciting, but I can already see her blurting it out to the whole village."

  "Exactly. She’d love the novelty of it but keeping a secret? Not a chance." I sighed. "If you and Gus tell Rowena together, she might take it better. And if needed, Bodhmall could help with the ‘mystical wise-woman’ routine. But Ennie? She'd turn this into town gossip before you could say ‘divine intervention.’ Better wait until she’s old enough to understand what’s at stake."

  Brigid groaned and flopped onto her back, staring at the ceiling beams. "That makes sense… but I feel awful keeping secrets from her. She’ll know something’s up."

  "Oh, she’ll do more than that. She’ll make it her life’s mission to figure it out."

  As if summoned by fate, a suspiciously well-timed memory surfaced in Brigid’s mind.

  "Wow…So, she actually followed your father for an entire afternoon last spring because she thought he was sneaking into the woods to steal a dragon’s egg?"

  Brigid slapped a hand over her face. "He was just checking for lost sheep!"

  "And yet she came back telling everyone he was hatching a dragon so he could fly instead of riding a horse?"

  "Yes! And she even warned the other children to ‘prepare for the age of sky-knights!’"

  I could practically feel Brigid’s embarrassment radiating through our shared connection.

  "Oh the gods… I can’t believe I just told you that."

  "Too late. It’s out there now." I grinned. "Forever immortalised in the sacred annals of 'Ennie’s Most Ridiculous Declarations'."

  Brigid groaned and flipped over, burying her face in the pillow. "Please, let’s move on before I die of second-hand embarrassment."

  "Gladly. But for the record, I think she’d make an excellent cult leader. Now imagine what happens when she finds out you’re a candidate saint and I’m supposedly an emissary of a goddess."

  Brigid tensed up.

  "Next thing you know," I continued, "she’ll be holding sermons in the village square, declaring the miracles of Saint Brigid and ‘Mr. Divine Voice in Her Head!’"

  Brigid buried her face in her hands. "Oh no… she would do that, wouldn’t she?"

  "Without hesitation. And before you know it, farmers will be leaving offerings of turnips at your doorstep. Or worse—someone will ask you to heal their livestock."

  Brigid groaned. "I don’t even know how to heal people, let alone cows!"

  "Exactly. Let’s keep her blissfully unaware for now. You can tell her when she’s older and—hopefully—a little less dramatic."

  She sighed, rubbing her temples. "Alright, alright, you win. But what about Mother?"

  "Like I said, tell her with Gus. If she panics, at least he’ll be there to ground her. And Bodhmall, if necessary, can throw in some cryptic wisdom to make it sound less terrifying."

  "She’s already watching me like a hawk," Brigid admitted. "Last night, I sighed once, and she nearly jumped out of her seat asking if I was unwell."

  "To be fair, surviving rabies isn’t exactly a common thing. I think she seriously fears the God of Madness returning to claim you."

  "True," she muttered, absently rubbing her arms. "I’ll talk to Father first and see how he wants to handle it. If he thinks we should tell her together, then I will."

  "Smart move. That way, if she starts spiralling, you’re not taking the full brunt of the motherly panic alone. He’s kind of the ‘anchor’ in the family, isn’t he?"

  Brigid’s expression softened. "That’s Father. Always steady, always strong."

  "See? That’s why you should leave the mother-worrying problem to him. Your job is to just not accidentally start a cult with your sister."

  Brigid shot a glare at the air. "I highly doubt that’s going to happen."

  "Hey, I’m just saying—if it does, I get to say ‘I told you so.’"

  Brigid sighed but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at her lips. "You’re insufferable, Lucas."

  "And you’re still considering telling the town’s most excitable child that her sister is a saint. Let’s just agree we both have questionable judgment."

  Brigid shook her head, but for the first time that morning, her worries felt just a little lighter.

  "WHAT?"

  "Shhhh…!"

  "No, Mother, not so loud!"

  Rowena had bolted upright from her chair, her eyes wide with terror, while Gus and Brigid frantically tried to keep her from alerting the entire village.

  "Brigid! You must drive him out! What if he’s one of thousands of guises of the God of Madness? We must go to Bodhmall at once!"

  She gripped Brigid’s shoulders tightly, her fingers trembling as panic seized her voice. She looked ready to dump a bucket of holy water over Brigid to drive me out this instant.

  "Mother, please!" Brigid gasped, trying to pry herself free. "You’re overreacting!"

  "Overreacting?!" Rowena’s voice pitched higher, her breath coming in short bursts. "You’re telling me there’s a voice living in your head, and you expect me to sit here and sip tea like it’s nothing?!"

  "Rowena," Gus’s deep voice cut through the tension, his firm but gentle tone rooting her back to the present. He stepped forward, placing a steadying hand on her back. "I wouldn’t allow anything dangerous near you or the girls. But you know what happened last night, don’t you?"

  Rowena blinked rapidly, her panic battling with reason. "The deserters…"

  "Exactly." Gus nodded. "Who do you think fought them off?"

  She stared at him, then at Brigid.

  "I was petrified," she murmured, her fingers tightening around Brigid’s arms. "I don’t really remember much…"

  "Mother," Brigid said softly, placing her hands over Rowena’s, "Lucas was the one who saved us. The one who fought off the deserters and kept them from harming us. Do you think I would have been able to defeat those two soldiers on my own?"

  Rowena’s breath hitched. "The same voice in your head?"

  "Yes," Brigid nodded. "He’s not some sinister spirit. He’s not the God of Madness. He’s someone from another world that Merchecna choose as her emissary, and he’s been helping me this whole time."

  Rowena opened her mouth, then shut it again, her face flickering between fear, confusion, and cautious disbelief.

  Gus gave her a small nod. "He has protected Brigid, protected you and Ennie, and is even going to help us in ways we never imagined. Bodhmall has already acknowledged him as a divine emissary."

  Rowena swallowed hard, her grip on Brigid loosening. Slowly, she sank back down into her chair, still visibly shaken, but no longer in full-blown hysteria.

  Brigid hesitated for a moment, then tentatively asked, "Mother… would you like to speak with him?"

  Rowena’s eyes flickered to Gus, then back to Brigid, before finally settling on her lap. "Speak with him?"

  "Sure, I’m Lucas, and I can hear you," I said, keeping my tone as gentle and non-threatening as possible.

  Rowena visibly flinched, her shoulders stiffening at my sudden interjection.

  "He’s… real," she whispered, looking up at Brigid, her expression wary.

  Brigid nodded encouragingly.

  "I promise," I said carefully, "I mean no harm to you or your family. I was the one who fought the deserters last night. If I hadn’t stopped them…"

  I let the words hang. I didn’t need to say more. We all knew what could have happened.

  Rowena’s hands clenched in the fabric of her dress, trembling slightly.

  "I…" She took a slow breath, exhaling shakily. "I may have… overreacted."

  "Understandably so," I replied smoothly. "I’d probably panic too if someone I cared about suddenly started hearing voices."

  That got a tiny, almost reluctant chuckle out of her. The tension in the room eased—just a little.

  "I suppose I owe you my thanks, then," she admitted. Then, after a pause, she hesitated. "Why… why Brigid? Why my daughter?"

  "Merchecna had already chosen Brigid to become her saint," I said. "I was sent to help her—she has a mission. To stop the Horde."

  Rowena’s breath hitched. "A saint?" Her eyes darted to Brigid, disbelief flickering across her face. "My little Brigid?"

  "Not just a saint," I added, allowing a small, wry smile. "A warrior saint."

  I gestured slightly. "I just happen to be the warrior part."

  There was a long pause, as Rowena tried to come to terms with the extraordinary revelations heaped on her in the span of mere moments. The weight of everything—my presence, Brigid’s impending sainthood, the goddess, the war—pressed down on her all at once.

  Brigid, sensing that the worst had passed, grinned mischievously.

  "Oh, and Lucas was also the one who cooked the Ban Mian noodle soup."

  Rowena’s head snapped up. "That was him?"

  "I was also the one who used the two spoons as chopsticks to eat the noodles with."

  She narrowed her eyes. "I should have known. It was far too delicious for something Brigid could have made."

  "Hey!" Brigid pouted.

  Rowena sighed, rubbing her temples. "So… the voice in your head is not only a warrior but also a cook?"

  "Multitalented," I said smugly.

  Brigid nudged the air with her elbow, as if she could physically elbow me through our connection. "Don’t get cocky."

  Rowena shook her head, still overwhelmed but no longer panicked. "I don’t know what to make of all this… but if you really mean no harm, and you really saved us, then I suppose…" She exhaled. "I can live with this."

  Brigid brightened immediately, grabbing Rowena’s hands in hers. "Mother! Since you liked Lucas’s cooking, what if we have him guide us in making more dishes? Like a …”

  “Chinese food cookout?" I chimed in.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Rowena blinked. "Chinese? Is that… food from Lucas’ world?"

  "Yes! It’s completely different from anything we have here!"

  "And trust me, you won’t regret it," I added. "It’s time to introduce this world to the wonders of Chinese cooking."

  Rowena sighed again, but this time, there was a hint of amusement in her eyes.

  "It’s strange," she murmured, almost to herself. "Even though it’s Brigid’s voice, I can tell when it’s you speaking… The way you phrase things, the way you carry yourself—it’s nothing like her."

  Brigid puffed out her cheeks. "Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?"

  Rowena gave her a pointed look. "Brigid, you don’t say things like ‘the wonders of Chinese cooking’ with that much confidence."

  "She’s got you there," I said smugly.

  Brigid huffed. "You’re the one who’s making me say all these strange things, Lucas."

  Rowena rubbed her temples, exhaling. "Gods above… my daughter has a second voice, and it’s an arrogant chef."

  "I’m also a good fighter who you’d save you in a pinch," I reminded her.

  She sighed deeply. "Yes, yes, I know. I suppose I have no choice but to get used to this. Very well… Chinese cookout, was it? For lunch? But don’t expect me to do all the work."

  “I have the menu planned already!”

  "I’ll be helping too!" Brigid beamed, grabbing her mother’s hand and pulling her up. "Let’s get started!"

  Brigid suddenly perked up, thumping her fist lightly into her palm. "Should we call Ennie to help with the preparations?"

  Rowena smiled fondly. "Oh yes, she was thrilled to play with the dough last time when we made noodles."

  "There’s dumpling-wrapping to do this time," I added. "She’d love that… though I have to admit, it’s probably going to get messier with her involved."

  Rowena chuckled. "Oh, what’s a little cleaning? Let her have fun!" She turned toward Gus. "Dear, would you please fetch Ennie."

  "Certainly! I’m off, my darlings!" Gus called over his shoulder as he stepped out.

  And just like that, the atmosphere in the room shifted from tense uncertainty to warm anticipation as we all made our way to the kitchen.

  The hurried pitter-patter of small feet echoed from just beyond the door.

  "Big Sister Brigid! Are we making more fantasy foods again?!"

  Before anyone could answer, Ennie burst into the kitchen, eyes shining with excitement, her tiny hands clenched into eager fists.

  Brigid laughed. "Yes! Come join us! But wash your hands first!"

  "Already did!" Ennie declared proudly—before wiping them on her dress.

  "No! Again, Ennie?" Rowena sighed, grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her toward the washbasin.

  "It was just a little dust!" Ennie protested.

  "It was on the door handle! Hands out!" Rowena didn’t wait for an argument, cupping water in her hands and splashing it over Ennie’s. “Where’s father?”

  "He sent me back on my own and said he had to drop by the barracks for a short while" Ennie grinned before bouncing over to the table. "What are we making first? More noodles? Oooh! Can we make dragon-shaped ones?"

  "No noodles today," Brigid chuckled, lifting Ennie onto a stool. "We’re making dumplings."

  "Dumplings?!" Ennie gasped as if I had just revealed the secrets of the universe. She looked the ones Brigid and her mother had made and observed, "Like little meat pouches?! And you can eat the pouch too?"

  "Yes, but we got to fry them first," I confirmed.

  Brigid and Rowena rolled out soft sheets of dough, filling them with seasoned minced wild boar meat and scallions.

  "Now, fold it like this—" I guided them through the pleating process, making sure they sealed the edges properly.

  Rowena held up her first attempt, staring at it with mild betrayal. "Mine looks like a wrinkled pouch."

  "That’s fine," I reassured her. "Ugly dumplings still taste good. Just don’t let the filling leak."

  Brigid grinned. "Then Ennie’s will taste the best, because hers are going to be a mess."

  "Hey!" Ennie huffed, aggressively pinching the edges of her dough. "I’ll have you know, mine are very artistic!"

  She held up a lumpy, overstuffed dumpling, its sides bursting at the seams like a noble’s belt after a feast.

  Rowena pinched the dumpling over. "Ennie… it’s supposed to be closed."

  "It’s a surprise dumpling!" Ennie declared. "You don’t know where the filling will escape from! Exciting, right?"

  Brigid and I exchanged glances in our mind.

  "...Right. Exciting." I nodded.

  Rowena sighed in the resigned way only mothers can and gently repaired Ennie’s dumpling.

  Once we had wrapped three platefuls, we moved on to the next dish, the steamed eggs with mushrooms and boar meat.

  "This next one is easy and smooth—literally."

  Rowena crossed her arms. "Smooth?"

  "Yep. Imagine an egg custard, but savoury. It’s light, silky, and full of flavour."

  We mixed beaten eggs with water, added a touch of salt, then combined it with seasoned minced meat, sliced chicken-of-the-forest mushrooms, and a sprinkle of dried anchovies.

  "No soya sauce?" Brigid sensed my thoughts and asked. “What’s that?”

  “It’s a sauce that’s important to Chinese cooking. We need koji and soya beans,” I explained. "Can’t make it here, so we’re compensating with natural umami ingredients."

  Ennie tilted her head. "Umami? Who’s that?"

  "Not a person, Ennie."

  "Sounds like a person."

  Brigid smirked. "You should meet his cousin, Delicious."

  "And his best friend, Savoury," I added.

  Ennie squinted at us. "I feel like I’m being lied to."

  Ignoring Ennie’s rising suspicions, we layered the ingredients into a deep dish before pouring in the diluted egg mixture.

  Since there was no proper steamer, we had to get creative.

  "Alright, we need to suspend the dish in the pot."

  I led Brigid to rifle through the cupboards before pulling out an old cracked bowl, missing a long shard on one side.

  "This should hold it up."

  "Brigid, are you sure—"

  "It will be fine, Mother."

  We added an inch of water into a large pot, balanced the deep dish over the cracked bowl, and slid the fire underneath the pot.

  "The trick," I explained, "is steaming it gently so it stays smooth. Too hot, and it bubbles. We want it to look like the mirror-like surface of a pond."

  Brigid squinted at the steaming bowl. "That’s… oddly poetic for a dish."

  "Food is poetry," I replied. "Just edible."

  Rowena shook her head. "You’re quite dramatic for a cook, aren’t you?"

  "Dramatic? No. Passionate? Absolutely."

  While the eggs steamed, we heated oil in a skillet and placed the dumplings in, letting them sizzle as their bottoms crisped up.

  "Alright, now we add some water and cover it. This steams the top while keeping the bottom crunchy."

  Since the skillet didn’t have a cover, I asked Rowena for a plate and slapped it on top.

  Brigid’s eyes widened as the dumplings hissed and steamed. "So, it’s both crispy and soft?"

  "Exactly! That’s what makes them so good! Texture and taste!"

  Ennie bounced on her stool. "And sauces! Do we have a sauce?"

  Rowena tapped her chin. "Would cameline sauce do? It’s good for roasts."

  "It’s a bit different, but it’ll work well I think." I nodded.

  "What’s cameline sauce?" Ennie asked.

  "Spiced, slightly sweet sauce made with vinegar, cinnamon, and breadcrumbs," Brigid explained.

  Ennie squinted. "…That’s not what I expected."

  "Trust me, it’ll be good," I assured her.

  She pointed a tiny finger at me. "I’ll be the judge of that."

  By the time everything was ready, the house smelled incredible.

  Brigid clasped her hands together. "We should do this more often!"

  Rowena took a tentative bite of a dumpling, her eyes widening slightly at the crispy-yet-juicy texture.

  "I admit… this is unlike anything I’ve tasted before."

  "High praise," I said smugly.

  [Illustration Request]

  Illustrating Ennie cramming and hoarding fried dumplings in both her hands.

  Rowena and Brigid look on. Rowena in worried disapproval. Ennie in amusement and mirth

  Ennie, meanwhile, had one dumpling in each hand, taking alternating bites like a chipmunk hoarding food for winter.

  "Ennie, slow down—"

  "Can’t, mother! What if they disappear?!"

  Brigid sighed. "Where do you think the dumplings are going to go, Ennie?"

  "Into my tummy!"

  Gus finally returned from the barracks, just in time to see Ennie trying to smuggle a fourth dumpling into her pockets.

  "Please don’t do that Ennie love," he muttered.

  "It’s not bread Ennie," Brigid exclaimed, snatching the dumpling back. “The juices will soil your dress!”

  Rowena placed a steaming plate of dumplings in front of him, alongside the smooth, golden surface of the steamed eggs.

  "Alright, dig in before Ennie steals everything," Brigid announced.

  "I wouldn’t steal everything!" Ennie protested—while already stuffing a dumpling into her mouth.

  "Ennie, chew first before arguing," Rowena sighed.

  Gus picked up a dumpling, taking a generous bite. The crisp bottom crackled under his teeth before giving way to juicy, flavourful minced boar. He let out a satisfied hum, nodding approvingly.

  "Now that’s good eating," he said, reaching for another.

  "Try the eggs too!" Brigid urged.

  Gus scooped up a bite of the steamed eggs, watching how the silky custard jiggled slightly before melting in his mouth.

  "Smooth like butter," he mused, scooping another bite immediately. "You sure you didn’t get a kitchen spirit to make this?"

  "Nope! Just Lucas," Brigid smirked.

  "So a spirit after all," Gus chuckled.

  Rowena shot him a look, but he was already too busy eating to notice.

  For a while, the house was filled with nothing but the sound of satisfied chewing, the occasional clinking of plates, and Ennie trying (and failing) to eat more dumplings than was humanly possible.

  Once the meal was done, Rowena and Brigid cleared the plates, washing them while Gus leaned back in his chair, looking pleased with life.

  Ennie patted her belly happily. "We should make dumplings every day!"

  Rowena arched an eyebrow. "Are you volunteering to help with the dishes every day?"

  Ennie paused mid-chew. "...Maybe once a week?"

  Rowena smiled patiently. "That’s what I thought."

  At that, Ennie darted out the door to re-join her friends at play. While helping wipe down the table, I could sense Brigid’s thoughts drift to Bodhmall’s request for her to meet the General at Bryn Massan.

  Maybe you should ask your father, Brigid.

  You sensed what I was thinking? Yes, I have absolutely no idea why I should meet him or what I could do to help.

  Brigid carried on wiping the table in silence for a moment, and as if spurring herself to face the uncertainty, she blurted out, “Father, why do I have to meet the General?”

  Rowena piped up in surprise, “Darling, you’re really bringing her to meet the general?”

  Gus turned to us and replied calmly, “That was Bodhmall’s idea. I thought she was over zealous about Brigid being a warrior saint at first…”

  “What? Warrior Saint? Our little Brigid?” Rowena exclaimed, turning from the sink to stare at Gus in surprised disbelief.

  Brigid was startled into looking around to check, and was relieved to see that Ennie was not within earshot. “Not so loud, mother! I want to keep it a secret from Ennie and the neighbours, especially since it’s not official. I didn’t even know of this till last night; the Goddess didn’t tell me.”

  “That’s true, but she told me.” I said.

  Rowena had put down her chores at this point and returned to the dining table with Gus, and Gus, Brigid, and I briefed Rowena on what had transpired at Bodhmall’s place last night.

  Gus let out a short chuckle. “I know. It sounds absurd, doesn’t it?” He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “But Bodhmall believes in the omens that predict that Brigid will be Merchecna's saint. Lucas said as much, having heard from Merchecna directly. And truth be told, the situation in Erse is dire. If Bryn Massan falls, the Horde will sweep across the countryside. There’s no stopping them after that.”

  Rowena folded her arms, her expression darkening. “And where is Lord Riordan in all of this? Sitting in his manor, drinking Erse’s wealth away?”

  Gus’s lips pressed into a thin line. “That’s exactly what he’s doing. He’s content to squander the treasury and do nothing, merely rubber-stamping Adair’s work. If it weren’t for the General, Erse would have plunged into chaos long ago.”

  Rowena sighed, rubbing her temple. “General Adair… he’s a dutiful man, I’ll give him that. Holding Erse together while that useless lord bleeds us dry.” She shook her head. “But none of this explains why Brigid has to meet him.”

  Brigid hesitated, then spoke up. “Because Merchecna means for me to help stop the Horde. We can’t avoid this forever. If Bryn Massan falls, the Horde will pillage everything in their path—including Cullfinn.”

  I was stunned by this sudden turnaround. Just last night, Brigid had been filled with uncertainty. Now, she was in survival mode, ready to rise to the challenge.

  Rowena turned sharply to her. “Brigid—”

  “I want to help Erse in any way I can,” Brigid said, voice steady. “I know I’m just a girl with no place in a real war, but that won’t stop the Horde from coming.”

  Rowena’s face tightened. “And do you have any idea what you’re saying? You’re talking about war, Brigid. You don’t understand the weight of what’s being asked of you.”

  Gus raised a hand. “Rowena, I’m not throwing her into battle.”

  “You’d better not,” Rowena shot back and regarded Gus sternly. “She’s twelve, Gus. Twelve. Not some hardened warrior. She’s not even a saint yet. It’s not like she has invincible divine protection. She’s a child. And yet everyone—Bodhmall, you, and perhaps even the General—is going to act like she’s the answer to all of Erse’s problems.”

  Brigid leaned forward, pressing a hand over her heart, her expression unwavering with conviction. "I don’t think I have all the answers. But I know the goddess has a purpose for me—something only I can do."

  Rowena exhaled sharply, looking between them. “Promise me. Both of you. No getting Brigid directly involved in the fighting.”

  Gus nodded solemnly. “I swear, I’ll protect her. She won’t be in harm’s way.”

  Rowena turned to Brigid. “And you, Brigid?”

  Brigid hesitated. She didn’t want to lie, but she also knew that promises meant something to Rowena. Finally, she exhaled. “…I’ll do my best to stay safe.”

  Rowena’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not a promise.”

  Brigid looked down. “I can’t promise something I might not be able to keep.”

  Rowena’s voice hardened. "Then how can I let you go? I know you all too well, Brigid my love. You are all too willing to stand up for what is right and protect others. The way you saved Ennie from that mad dog… While I am so proud of you for being such a dutiful big sister, it terrifies me that you will throw yourself into danger without thinking of your own safety. Who will stand up for you?"

  "I will, darling. I will be by her side at all times." Gus declared.

  "As will I," I affirmed.

  Rowena’s expression softened, but there was deep worry in her gaze. She reached out, brushing a strand of Brigid’s hair back. “Just remember… you don’t have to bear this alone. And you don’t have to prove anything to anyone. I just want you to be safe.”

  Brigid nodded, but deep down, I sensed that she knew—this wasn’t something she could turn away from.

  Brigid seemed to take this as divine predestination, something quite alien to me. But given her pious belief in Merchecna, it didn’t surprise me.

  Your mother is rather worried about you. Are you sure you are ready for this, Brigid? I asked inwardly, hesitant.

  I have to be, she responded, her thoughts steady. If this is Merchecna’s will, then this is a path I must walk.

  You could refuse or ask the goddess if you could take on this mission on when you are older.

  And watch my home burn? Erse might not even exist in a few months! That’s not an option, Lucas.

  Brigid’s focus sharpened as she set her rag down. Rowena, sensing her distraction, turned to her. “Brigid, what’s wrong?”

  Brigid blinked and hesitated. “Sorry, mother, I... I was talking to Lucas.”

  Turning to Gus, Rowena asked, “When will you be bringing her there, darling?”

  “I was intending on setting out tomorrow.” Gus replied. “I had sent word ahead to General Adair.”

  Rowena exhaled, her gaze flickering between her husband and daughter. "Tomorrow? That soon?" She pursed her lips, then nodded with quiet determination. "Then we must prepare properly. You must both meet the general looking your best."

  "Mother, we’re going to the general, not a royal court," Brigid pointed out, shifting awkwardly.

  "That’s precisely why," Rowena countered, crossing her arms. "If Lucas is an emissary of the goddess, then so are you, Brigid. General Adair and his officers need to see you as someone worthy of that title. The way you present yourself will shape how they perceive you."

  "She’s right," Gus admitted, rubbing his chin. "Adair is a practical man, but his officers are another matter. If they see you as a mere child, they’ll question why you’re there at all. You do need to look the part."

  Brigid hesitated. The idea of being scrutinized by seasoned commanders made her stomach twist, but she straightened, nodding. "Alright, I understand."

  Rowena gave a satisfied nod. "Good. We’ll prepare travel clothes that are both dignified and practical—something sturdy but refined. And darling, your armour must be polished. I won’t have the Ahearns arriving at Bryn Massan looking like beggars."

  "I suppose that means I’ll be spending my evening with a whetstone and oil," Gus muttered with a wry smile.

  "Oh, don’t you grumble at me, Gus Ahearn," Rowena scolded, though there was warmth in her voice. "And Brigid, I’ll see to it that your hair is properly braided so you look presentable. We’ll also pack meals for the journey. Perhaps some extra clothes, water skins, and medicine just in case.”

  Brigid blinked. "Mother, I—"

  "Hush, child, let me fuss over you while I still can." Rowena’s voice softened as she placed a hand on Brigid’s cheek. "You’re traveling to aid in an important cause, but you’re still my daughter. Let your mother take care of you tonight."

  Brigid swallowed past the lump in her throat and nodded.

  Rowena turned to Gus. "And you, my love, don’t think you’re leaving without a proper meal. You’ll be on the road for days, and I won’t have you both starving."

  "A hearty meal before a long journey? Now that’s something I won’t argue with," Gus chuckled.

  Brigid smiled faintly, feeling the warmth of home settle deep in her heart. Tomorrow morning, she would leave to fulfill her duty. But tonight, she was still her mother’s daughter.