Laryn had intended to seek out Korwin and seek her advice on setting up trade with this new kingdom. He also had some ideas for her about how she might most effectively accomplish the tasks he’d assigned to her.

  His encounter with Korv distracted him though, and also reminded him that he had been meaning to talk to Kenna. He also had some opinions to share with her about how to streamline and improve the food production process. He’d once read about a baker who’d tripled his daily output by shifting from an artisanal flow to a specialized job flow, and wanted Kenna to try implementing something like that with the various foods she worked to prepare.

  He headed back toward the central island. As he did Adi appeared beside him. “Laryn,” she said. “What is your plan for the council? Are you going to… do something else with them?”

  “I’m going to make sure they’re doing their tasks,” Laryn said. “We put most of our ideas for them down on the lists. I think it would be good if I go around and check on them, to make sure they’re doing everything right.”

  “Is that the best use of your time?” Adi asked. “You could be sifting, or working on the laws that we started discussing?”

  “I think so,” Laryn protested. “If my councilors are doing what I told them to do, and doing it right, everything flows more smoothly. If I don’t check on them, they might mess things up.”

  He realized that even though he’d walked across most of Vallor, he hadn’t seen any of his councilors.

  “Okay…” Adi said, seeming uncertain.

  “Do you not approve?”

  “It’s your kingdom,” she said. “And I’m not an advisor. But people tend to take suggestions better if you spend some time getting to know them first.”

  Laryn rolled his eyes. “That’s so inefficient,” he said. “We have a kingdom to grow. To build! We need to get things done around here.”

  “It’s just that you seemed to encounter some resistance when they first saw the lists you made for them. You chose these people as councilors, so maybe listen to them a little bit. Let them counsel you?”

  “Those are two different words: Council and counsel.”

  Adi shrugged, and continued walking quietly beside him.

  “Fine,” Laryn said, stepping down off the bridge. He looked around for Rimba. An Orfsweller he didn’t know stood guard nearby. Laryn idly wondered if the man had a blade ready to drop the bridge.

  Smoke curled up from the cooking fire on the beach near Laryn’s shelter and the kingdom core. A few figures moved around the flames, dealing with the carcasses of cows which had been brought in from a hunt recently.

  Laryn glanced at Adi.

  “Go talk to Kenna,” Adi said. “See what she thinks would make things better around here. Ask her questions. Don’t tell her what to do yet.”

  Laryn nodded then trudged across the beach. He approached Kenna, who stood over one of the casks salvaged from Laryn’s cart.

  “What’s this?” he asked, a good first question.

  She glanced up at him, yellow curls falling around her face and over her eyes. “Oh, something special,” she said, then she stood up straighter, and met his gaze. “Sorry, it’s not on your list, but I haven’t spent a lot of time on it.”

  “But what is it?” he asked again.

  “Just something that I’ve been working on for a week,” she said. Laryn put his foot on the cask. It sloshed as he wiggled it. He raised an eyebrow.

  “Alcohol?”

  “It’s just a basic gobo mead,” she said. “I thought it might help alleviate tensions around here a little.”

  “That’s a fine idea,” Laryn said. “You’ve got a system for making it? I haven’t fermented a beverage before, but I imagine that there’s a process there that can be improved. Also, we should probably lock this up in the storage shelter. I don’t want people drinking too much when we have so much work to do. We’ll have to monitor—”

  Adi coughed behind him softly.

  “—consumption…” he said, trailing off.

  “If you don’t mind,” Kenna said, “I didn’t make a lot of it. Just enough for a bit of a celebration one evening?”

  “That’s a great idea,” Laryn said. “We’ll do it tonight!” Adi coughed again, and Laryn rephrased it as a question. “Um, would tonight work?”

  “I think so,” Kenna said. “It seems like it’s ready.”

  “Anyways I had some questions for you,” Laryn said, turning and gesturing for Adi to leave. She cocked an eyebrow at him but walked a few steps off then disappeared.

  He knew she could still see and hear what he was doing, so it wasn’t like he’d really sent her away. But it felt strange, talking to Kenna with her standing right there.

  Kenna glanced around at the others working at the camp fire. Hela was there, doing something with the bones. She seemed to be partially helping, partially getting in the way. She was definitely not doing the tasks Laryn had assigned to her.

  “What do you want to know?” Kenna asked, turning back to him. “Should we walk and talk?”

  “Sure,” Laryn said, and they turned away from the camp fire.

  Laryn and Kenna walked together across the beach, heading east across the island. For a moment, Laryn felt uncomfortable, then realized that he had not walked alone with a woman since he had walked with Elena in Eltar.

  Kenna was nothing like his former love. Elena had been shorter, curvier, more energetic, and a lot more talkative. While Kenna, with her golden curls and mysterious blue eyes, walked more thoughtfully—her strong, willowy figure a contrast to Laryn's memory of Elena.

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  But still, the closeness to a woman was something that he had not had in some time, and it brought back feelings that he had been trying to avoid.

  After walking in silence for an awkward amount of time, Laryn forced himself to ask her his question. He indicated the knife that she wore on her hip.

  “Where did you get that knife?”

  “That was your question for me?” Kenna said, placing one hand on the sheath, running a finger across the silver engraving design. Laryn nodded, remembering what she had told Ilydia during that version of the timeline which he had undone and reset.

  “It’s not something that you could have made here in the wildlands. You would have had to have purchased it, traded for it somehow.”

  “It was a gift,” she said, “from my father.” The same answer.

  “Your father must have been a wealthy man,” he said. “Did he live here in the wildlands with you?”

  Kenna shook her head. “I did not grow up here in the wildlands. I… I came here to get away from some things. But I keep this knife as a way to remember my father. He was many things, but he did love me. Why the interest?”

  Laryn scratched his head and realized that now he had to explain to her what had really happened. “Remember when we had negotiations with the elves, and Ilydia grew very angry at us and discovered that Hila had been involved in the attack on Annar?”

  Kenna nodded. “I remember,” Kenna said. “I was bringing food and you stepped out and told me to find someone else to serve it. I shouldn’t have sent Hela, I suppose.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Laryn said. “That wasn’t the first version of what happened.”

  “Oh!” Kenna’s eyes grew wide. “You were resetting time?”

  “Yes,” Laryn said. “In the first version, I did not stop you from entering. You came in. You placed the food before Ilydia and used your knife as you prepared to serve it. Up until that moment, Ilydia believed the attack had been perpetrated by other elves; void cultists. He did not believe that we had elven crafted tools. He must not have noticed your blade before.”

  “I wasn’t wearing it before,” Kenna said. “I had hidden it. I was… prepared to flee from you if needed.”

  Laryn stumbled in his storytelling momentarily, her interjection throwing him off. Then he continued.

  “Ilydia saw your knife and in his mind, it cast suspicion on us. He believed that we were more sophisticated than we’d led him to believe, and he began throwing out accusations. So I reset time and tried again. Only we got worse results.”

  Kenna laughed. “Meeting your fate on the road you take to avoid it,” she said. “A moral as old as time. Strange, though, to think that I've said things or done things in a life that I didn't live and don't remember.”

  “You didn't, not really,” Laryn said. “It's stranger that I remember things that never happened.”

  Kenna laughed again, and they continued walking along the path, soon reaching the eastern edge of the island. The ice having broken, Laryn found himself enjoying Kenna’s company. He’d used to love the long, rambling walks he and Elena would take through the streets of Eltar and out into the country side, chatting about anything or nothing or both at the same time.

  “So why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself?” Kenna said. “Everyone is curious. You don’t share much about your past.”

  Laryn sighed as they emerged from the woods on the island’s eastern shore. The two forks of the Ebil River flowed together there, a twisting, turbulent flow which stretched out, cutting its way through the lush jungle to the east.

  He walked over to a small bench, resting in the perfect spot to sit and enjoy the view. He took a seat, and the bench wobbled slightly.

  “Thatch practicing his carpentry skills again, I see,” he said wryly as Kenna walked over.

  “I wish—this is why I’ve been trying so hard to coordinate everyone. If everyone’s just milling about doing their own thing, then how are we ever going to stay focused and build a community, a kingdom that can grow, succeed, and expand?”

  “Perhaps expanding is not the most important part,” Kenna said. “Perhaps enjoying your life is also an important factor?”

  She took a seat beside him on the small bench. It creaked slightly but held. The narrow width of the bench forced her to sit directly by him, her shoulder touching his, her knee pressed to his. Laryn found himself painfully aware of her presence as she turned to face him, eyes locked on his face.

  “Tell me about your family,” she said.

  “What is there to tell?” he countered. “I’m one of seventeen children to my father. The second son, destined to be a warrior-advisor to Yarin the Younger. My father rules Eltar. My grandfather did before him. My aunts and uncles provide advice and management of important industries, filling the Eltaran Council. My cousins do their duties and the kingdom thrives.”

  “Seventeen!” Kenna exclaimed. “I pity your mother.”

  “Only six of my siblings are from my mother,” Laryn said. “My father has four wives.”

  “You do things differently in Endara,” Kenna said. “You must think that we Catarians are quite strange.”

  “Sometimes, yes,” Laryn agreed.

  “How did you come here?” she asked. “You are a prince? They just let you wander away into the wilderness?”

  “I could ask the same questions of you,” Laryn said. “You carry yourself like someone noble born.”

  Kenna blushed. “You flatter me.”

  “No, I’m serious,” he said. “Tell me—”

  Kenna’s fingers brushed his leg, and he glanced down at her hand. “Did you run away from home?”

  “No,” Laryn said, looking down at his hand and twisting the promise ring on his life finger. “But in a way, yes. It’s sort of a long story—a painful one for me—but the gist of it is, the woman who gave me this ring is going to be marrying my oldest brother at his princely coronation.”

  He exhaled strongly. “I couldn’t bear to stay in the capital, and see the city dress itself up to celebrate the day she becomes a part of my brother’s life forever. The questions were too much for me.”

  For a moment, he met Kenna’s eyes. He saw understanding there.

  “You ran,” she said.

  “I told everyone I needed to get away. I said I was going to hunt goblins, and clear my head. I brought my younger brother Keldin with me. We packed a wagon full of supplies, got father’s permission, and set sail to Cataria. A small guard lead by Master Alzar came with us, to make sure we didn’t get into trouble and that we’d be back in time for the official ceremony.”

  Laryn swallowed. “I was lying to them all. I wasn’t going to make it back to the ceremony. I stole a Kingdom core. I guessed it was old, but I never imagined that it was so powerful. I hid it in the wagon. I planned to build a kingdom in the wilderness. See if I could do better than Yarin. My plan was bad though. I was too broken up over Elena’s betrayal to think clearly.”

  The events he described felt like they’d happened eons ago, but it had really only been a few short weeks. He remembered each moment like it was yesterday. “Master Alzar started snooping. He found the kingdom core. He was not happy with me, and we had a confrontation. I… panicked. I killed him.”

  Laryn stopped, waiting for the shock and judgment he knew would come from Kenna. It didn’t. She just listened.

  “I woke Keldin in a panic. Told him that there was a sickness in town, that the guards were coming down with dysentery and that we had to get out before we got sick too. He believed me. I don’t know if the guards ever found Master Alzar’s body. Maybe they just went home after we all disappeared.

  He shook his head and laughed bitterly.

  “I told myself I could do this. That I had it all figured out. That I was making a reasonable decision. Then when it went wrong, I blamed Elena again. But she didn’t do this. I did.”

  He took the promise ring off his finger. “It’s stupid to keep wearing this. I don’t care about her anymore. I’ll never see her again.”

  He threw the ring away, watching it splash into the water of the Ebil.

  He coughed, feeling a rising emotion in his throat at the thought of Keldin. The image of his dead brother lingered in his mind.

  “It feels strange to admit it out loud,” he said.

  Kenna shifted, turning towards him, pressing her leg into his more strongly, and placed her hand atop his. Laryn realized that he had been fidgeting aggressively with the ring on his life finger. Kenna’s touch stilled him, allowed him to relax slightly. He glanced to the side and saw her deep blue eyes drinking in every movement that he made.

  “You’re an interesting person, Laryn,” she said.

  Suddenly, Kenna’s closeness, presence, and attention, was overwhelming. Laryn could not handle it. His heart raced as he started to panic.

  He activated his [Temporal Thinking Space].