Inn Cutaway — “Dull Without Him” (Agreement Aftermath)

  Vemi was wiping tables like she could scrub the silence out of the wood.

  She moved in tight circles. Over and over. Busy hands. Empty room.

  Vambasta sat down hard at the nearest table, ears bent low, tail drooping like it had weight.

  “I miss him…” she mumbled.

  Vemi’s rag stopped.

  Then she howled.

  Not a clean howl. Not a proud one.

  A broken sound that tried to be fury and grief at the same time.

  “I want a rematch,” vambasta choked out—voice cracking—“and I hate that I miss him.”

  She cried as she said it. Like the words were knives she kept swallowing.

  Vambasta’s shoulders hitched. A hiccup. Another.

  Vemi swallowed, forced her voice steady.

  “I know. I know,” she said, softer. “It’s been dull since he and his party left.”

  Her eyes flicked toward the corner like she expected Derpy to be there anyway.

  “Just the dragon girl,” Vemi added. “And her.”

  Vespera.

  Queen.

  vespers stood near the doorway, wings half-spread, third ring newly repaired—metal catching lamplight like a promise that had finally been kept.

  Vambasta sniffed, wiped her face with the back of her wrist, then jerked her chin toward the hall.

  “Go,” she muttered. “Before you change your mind.”

  Vespera hesitated.

  Then she stepped forward and put both hands on Queen’s shoulders—her sister—pushing her, gently but insistently, toward the next room.

  “Ask her,” Vespera said.

  Queen’s gaze slid to the fan.

  In. Out. In. Out.

  Seraphine’s patience, pretending to be polite.

  Vespera’s jaw tightened.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “I’m taking off to find Derpy,” she said. “I can sense where he is. The contract we made—” She tapped her chest like the thread lived under her ribs. “It pulls.”

  Queen’s eyes widened.

  Vespera hugged her—tight, fast, like she was afraid she’d lose her if she let go too long.

  “One last time,” Vespera whispered.

  Then she turned and left—wind and wing and purpose—gone before anyone could stop her.

  Queen exhaled slowly.

  And walked toward Seraphine.

  “Miss Seraphine,” Queen said carefully, voice respectful on purpose. “I would like some time off. To head home. To see my sisters and my family.”

  The air changed.

  Not loud.

  Just… colder.

  Sinister.

  Seraphine’s fan paused mid-flick.

  “Why?” Seraphine asked, sweet as poison. “I thought I was your family. I thought the Sinister Seven was your family.”

  Queen’s wings folded in a little.

  “You are, Miss Seraphine,” Queen said. “But my other family is calling for me. I only need a few days.”

  Seraphine’s fan snapped open again.

  “No.”

  Queen’s throat bobbed.

  Seraphine didn’t blink.

  “The King and Joker are the only ones from the Sinister Seven that aren’t out of commission,” Seraphine said. “I need you.”

  Vambasta hiccuped.

  Then, from the table like a thrown stone—

  “You are such a bitch.”

  Seraphine’s head snapped toward her.

  Silence.

  Then Seraphine’s voice sharpened.

  “You have a problem with me, wolf pup?”

  Vambasta’s shaking wasn’t fear.

  It was rage trying to fit inside skin that didn’t deserve to hold it.

  Her body surged—

  Pink fur.

  Mass.

  Height.

  A giant wolf rising over Seraphine like a verdict.

  Vambasta bared teeth.

  “All you do is bark orders,” she growled. “Orders here. Orders there. And you can’t even let a dragon go see her family?”

  Her voice cracked on the word family like it meant something sacred.

  “You’re a bitch,” Vambasta said again, louder. “I hate you. And I don’t forgive you.”

  Seraphine’s eyes glittered.

  “I don’t need to be forgiven.”

  Vambasta grabbed Seraphine by the royal dress and lifted her like she weighed nothing.

  Queen flinched.

  Vemi froze in the doorway, rag hanging from her hand.

  Seraphine didn’t scream.

  She looked… entertained.

  “You’re a spicy wolf,” Seraphine purred.

  Then her fan flicked once.

  “I’ll make an exception.”

  Queen’s head snapped up.

  “Go,” Seraphine said, voice velvet. “See your family.”

  Queen’s breath hitched—relief and guilt at the same time.

  Seraphine’s gaze slid to Vambasta, still holding her up.

  “But you,” Seraphine said lightly, “are going to take her place until she gets back.”

  Vambasta’s chest heaved.

  A hiccup.

  Then, slowly—she lowered Seraphine back down.

  “That’s more like it,” Vambasta muttered.

  vemi sat cross-legged, tail flicking, trying to pretend she wasn’t nervous.

  “So what should we do, ” she asked.

  Cinder reached for her grimoire.

  And her hand met empty air.

  Her breath stopped.

  Her eyes went wide.

  She fumbled again—faster—like she could grab it if she moved quick enough.

  Nothing.

  “Pyro,” Cinder whispered.

  No answer.

  “Pyro.” Louder.

  Still nothing.

  “Pyro—Pyro—” her voice broke.

  Tears welled hard and hot, and she shoved her face into her pillow like she could hide from the panic chewing through her ribs.

  Pyro woke to darkness and motion.

  A chain.

  A hip.

  A steady stride.

  He blinked—pages fluttering like a yawn.

  “So,” Pyro said, voice dry, “you’re Lenora Strayheart.”

  It had taken him quite some time to find her.

  Lenora didn’t answer.

  She stood up.

  Walked toward the door.

  “I need to pee,” she said flatly to the room, like it was the only normal thing left.

  Sinister Derpy’s voice followed her, warm and wrong.

  “Take your time,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Back in the ash-shore.

  Back under the stitched sky.

  Celica stepped forward.

  Her gaze locked on Derpy like a collar snapping shut.

  “Now,” Celica said.

  And the air itself felt like it braced.

  “Training.”

  Chapter ends.