The tavern smelled of freshly baked bread, sizzling onions, and roasted meat, the rich, layered aroma of a midday meal in full swing. Sunlight poured through the tall, leaded windows of the Copper Candle, warming the worn wooden floors and reflecting off mugs and plates. The hearth had been relit, with flames dancing lazily beneath a hanging kettle, adding a faint smokiness to the air.

  The common room buzzed with activity. Workers from the guild halls filled the tables, blacksmiths with soot still on their sleeves, scribes flipping through notes, and a trio of city guards halfway through a pitcher of ale. The chatter flowed in waves, interrupted now and then by the barkeep calling out orders or the clang of a dropped mug. Platters floated overhead: steaming flatbread, hearty soups, and cuts of meat topped with grilled vegetables. It wasn’t fancy, but it was filling, and no one seemed to mind.

  Near the corner, a pair of traveling minstrels tuned their instruments, debating chords too softly to follow. Behind the bar, the same heavyset innkeeper moved between barrels and bread loaves with the same no-nonsense rhythm, barely glancing up as the room shifted around him.

  At our table, Seraphina leaned back with a sigh, stretching her arms and blinking slowly. “Gods, I can’t remember the last time I slept that long.”

  “You earned it,” I said, breaking off a chunk of crusty bread and sopping it into the bowl of stew in front of me. “Though I think I overdid it a bit last night. My arms still feel like iron.”

  “Worth it,” she said, reaching for her mug. “But if I don’t eat soon, I’m gonna start chewing on the table.”

  I chuckled and looked down at my plate, roasted root vegetables, thinly sliced lamb, and a piece of cheese drizzled with honey. “You know what I miss?” I said, almost instinctively. “Pizza.”

  Seraphina paused mid-bite. “What’s pizza?”

  I looked at the food on my plate for a second, then snorted. “It’s like imagine flatbread. But with sauce, mostly tomato, and cheese. Lots of it. Melted. Then you add whatever else you want. Meat, mushrooms, herbs. It’s simple but perfect.”

  She raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “So like a lunch tart?”

  “Sort of. But bigger. Messier. Communal. You don’t use utensils, and everyone grabs a slice. It’s great with a cold ale.”

  She grinned. “That sounds chaotic. I love it.”

  “Yeah,” I said with a faint smile. “You’d like it. If we ever figure out tomatoes and ovens that don’t burn half the dough, I’ll try making one.”

  Seraphina raised her mug in a playful toast. “To pizza, whatever strange, magical food that is.”

  “Strange? Maybe. Delicious? Absolutely.” I leaned back, savoring the memory. “If the capital had one thing from my home, it should be pizza.”

  Seraphina tilted her head, amused. “You talk about it like it’s some ancient treasure.”

  “Feels like one,” I said, glancing down at my plate. “Back home, there was this little corner shop that smelled like garlic and burnt cheese, always packed, always loud.”

  The chair beside me scraped against the floor with a sharp screech, cutting through the tavern’s low hum. A cloaked figure lowered himself into the seat without a word. I didn’t need to look. I already knew who it was.

  He kept the hood on. His voice, when it came, was the same low rasp I remembered, quiet, weathered. “You slept through half the day.”

  Seraphina went still. Her fingers tightened slightly on her fork. I didn’t move.

  “My lord. Lady Robertson.” He gave a slight nod. “My name is Vaktar. Apologies for the intrusion. I believe it’s time I explained a few things.”

  He let the words hang there, then added, “Eldros is my homeland. I was sent by the king, as were others, to monitor the tower here in Vaelthorn. And the aftermath of what’s coming from the north. Things have shifted. And so have my orders. I’ve been told to assist you, Lord Robertson, however I can.”

  Seraphina leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “Why? Why help us?”

  “Because the alliance has been fed outdated information, incomplete, distorted, and delayed. And you,” he turned his attention to me, “are doing something that hasn’t been done in a very long time.”

  I set my utensils down slowly. “How much does your king know about us?”

  Vaktar’s reply came with the ease of someone who no longer had to hide it. “Enough to change their stance. From watching to intervening.”

  Seraphina kept her gaze locked on him. “Then let’s be clear. You may have orders, but he’s not yours. And if you try to use him, I’ll make sure your king finds out how fast word gets around when it comes from me.”

  The tension grew heavier across the table. Vaktar stayed silent, but I caught the corner of his mouth curling up. Not mockingly. Almost impressed.

  “You watched us,” she pressed. “Tracked us since Breackenreach. That’s not helping. That’s stalking.”

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  Vaktar held her gaze beneath the shadow of his hood. “I watched because I was following my orders...”

  “And now you’re what? Our shadow with a title?” Her tone was sharp and cutting. “You show up, you know too much, and you call him ‘Lord’ like it means something. If you were sent to manipulate him, speak now.”

  Vaktar raised his hands slightly, not in surrender, but like a man carefully measuring the weight of his words. “No manipulation. No threat. You’re right to be cautious. If I had nothing to hide, I would’ve stepped forward sooner.”

  Seraphina didn’t blink. “Then why didn’t you?”

  He paused. “Because the moment hadn’t come. But it has now. This morning, I got word that agents from the Church are heading here to Vaelthorn.”

  My hand tightened around my mug. “Should I be worried about the Church?”

  Vaktar’s voice lowered. “Not all of it. But there’s a faction within that is powerful, old, and devout in ways that make them dangerous. They believe what’s stirring here isn’t divine but heresy.”

  Seraphina’s tone went flat. “So they’re coming to watch?”

  “No,” Vaktar said quietly. “They’re coming to purge. Quietly, if possible. Permanently, if necessary.”

  I leaned forward. “You mean eliminate.”

  “Yes.”

  Seraphina’s voice was cold steel. “Why? We haven’t done anything.”

  Vaktar didn’t answer right away.

  I broke the silence. “Groups like that don’t wait for someone to act. They react to what could happen. Change scares them. The slow kind? They put up with it, pretend they’re changing. But the fast kind the one that shakes things up?” I shook my head. “That kind of change makes them violent.”

  “When should we expect these guests?” I asked Vaktar.

  Vaktar leaned in slightly, lowering his voice beneath the tavern’s hum. “It all depends on which method of travel. If they travel by airship, they could be here as soon as today. Otherwise, two days. Maybe three. They’re traveling under cover, but my contact said they were moving quickly, priests, a few escorts, and at least one Inquisitor.”

  Seraphina’s fingers curled tightly around her mug. “Inquisitor?”

  “The kind that doesn’t ask questions,” Vaktar said. “They’re not here for debate. They’re here to cleanse what they don’t understand.”

  “Your contact couldn’t be more exact?”

  “No, my lord. She lost them, and based on the current situation, these are what King Theran’s top advisors have determined.”

  I nodded slowly, the weight of it settling in my chest. “Then we don’t wait to be caught off guard.”

  Seraphina set her mug down more forcefully than she intended. “We need names. Faces. If they’re coming for David, they won’t just knock on the door.”

  Vaktar gave a slight, regretful nod. “I’ll see what I can gather. My orders were to assist, but I’m not embedded with the Church. We don’t know who they’re sending, just that they’re coming.”

  I tapped my fingers on the table. Seraphina’s gaze stayed on Vaktar. “And if your contact hears anything, bring it to us first. No surprises.”

  “I will,” he said. “I’ve already sent word requesting updates.”

  I looked at Vaktar. “So tell me, are you my shadow now? Or my aide?”

  He tilted his head slightly. “An aide would walk beside you. In the open. If needed.”

  I didn’t blink. “Then let me ask something simple.”

  Next to me, Seraphina’s posture changed. She hadn’t touched her fork since Vaktar sat down. Her eyes stayed on him.

  “Two days ago,” I said softly, “you were there. When those four thugs tried something they shouldn’t have, simply put, they ended up dead for it. Were you involved?” My hand moved to the hilt at my side. Calm. Controlled. Not subtle.

  Seraphina reached forward just a little, her fingertips brushing my forearm, grounding me, or perhaps getting ready to act if I didn’t.

  Vaktar’s eyes flicked between us, assessing. He noticed the tension in my shoulders, the alertness in hers. If he made one wrong move, it wouldn’t end with a conversation.

  “No,” he said finally. “I was following you. Watching, yes. But I didn’t interfere.” Sweat beaded lightly at his temple. He didn’t wipe it.

  Seraphina’s expression didn’t soften, not immediately. “You stood and watched us fight. Why not step in?”

  “My orders were observation only. The Crown feared outside intervention might cloud what was natural… and what wasn’t.”

  I kept my gaze locked. “And your wages?”

  That caught him off guard. His shoulders relaxed just a little. Maybe he thought the blade wasn’t coming after him after all.

  “My lord, there’s no need. The Crown of Eldros pays me.”

  “That’s not how this works,” I said. “If you’re beside us, if you protect her, you don’t work for them. You work for me.”

  Beside me, Seraphina finally exhaled. Not fully, but enough to let the edge leave her voice. “He’s still on thin ice,” she muttered. Vaktar gave a faint nod, eyes never leaving either of us.

  Vaktar paused, his expression unreadable beneath the hood. “You speak like a man used to command.”

  I shrugged. “I speak like someone who’s learned not to take protection for granted.”

  Across from me, Seraphina didn’t break her gaze from Vaktar. “If you’re going to be near us,” she said, “you don’t get to linger in shadows anymore.”

  Vaktar gave a slow nod. “Very well.”

  “By the way,” I asked, resting my arm on the table, “what’s your sword skill level if you don’t mind me asking?”

  Vaktar didn’t hesitate. “Since I’ll be under your protection now, I’m Sword Fighting, Level 6.”

  I nodded. “Not bad. I’m Level 5. Maybe we can spar sometime.”

  His head snapped toward me, hood shifting. “Level five?” he blinked. “You’re joking. The way you handled those men in the alley, fluid, deliberate, I thought you were at least Level 12.”

  I gave a modest shrug. “Technique more than level. There’s still a lot I want to work on.”

  Vaktar let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Either the gods are generous or you’re not just a blacksmith.”

  Seraphina leaned back in her chair; her expression calm but unmistakably proud. “He doesn’t brag. He just does the work.”

  Vaktar looked between us. “If that was just work,” he muttered, “remind me not to end up on your bad side.”

  He paused, then added, “There is one item I was instructed to pass along directly from King Theran. I’m not entirely sure of its meaning, but the Mage’s Tower here in Vaelthorn has a library. You might want to visit it.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “A library? What exactly am I supposed to look for?”

  Vaktar shook his head. “All I was told is that it holds records from the previous ages. Whatever that means.”

  Seraphina’s curiosity sparked immediately. “Previous ages? How far back are we talking?”

  “I don’t know,” Vaktar admitted. “But the message came sealed, and the King doesn’t send riddles lightly.”

  I glanced at her, then back at him. “Alright. It could be fun. I’ve always enjoyed a good library.”

  Memories flickered in quiet study halls, the scent of old paper, the deep stillness of university stacks. I had spent entire weekends buried in books during my college days. It might be interesting to see what counted as a library here, compared to what it was back then.

  “I find libraries boring…” Seraphina said with a teasing smile, her voice light but warm.

  I chuckled, then got up and straightened my coat. “Let’s find you a room. You’re under our roof now, might as well do it properly.”

  Seraphina also rose, brushing her hand against mine as she passed by. “Come on, Vaktar. Welcome to the team.”

  He stood up with the poise of someone trained not to draw attention. “Then yes, Lord Robertson.”