“Gryphons,” Shaelith said. “Though they’re territorial.”
I was warming to this now, ticking them off on my fingers. “What about the classics? Basilisks? Sea serpents? Maybe a nice friendly unicorn?” I paused. “Oh, krakens. There used to be stories in Braerlith about krakens in the deep harbors. Sailors would leave offerings so they wouldn’t drag ships down.”
“There’s a kraken in the lake,” Shaelith said, completely deadpan.
The table went silent.
I stared at her. “I’m sorry, what?”
“The lake,” she repeated, gesturing vaguely toward the courtyard. “In the main garden. There’s a kraken in it.”
“There’s a—” I looked around the table, waiting for someone to laugh. “You’re fucking with me.”
“I’m really not.”
“It’s quite small,” Brynelle assured me. “Only about twelve feet across when it’s fully extended.”
“Onlytwelve feet.”
“Very docile,” Varyth added, silver eyes gleaming with amusement. Bastard. “Hasn’t eaten anyone in decades.”
“Hasn’t eaten anyone in decades,” I repeated. “That’s your metric for safe?”
Lincatheron’s mouth twitched. “It mostly eats fish.”
“Sometimes bread,” Fenric said. “If you throw it from the bridge.”
I drained the rest of my wine. Set the glass down harder than necessary. “Spectacular. Wonderful. My children are going to make friends with a kraken.”
“Probably,” Shaelith agreed.
“I hate all of you.”
“You should see it when it’s happy,” Eilrys said. “It does this little dance?—”
“No. Absolutely not. I don’t want to know.” But I was fighting a smile now, the absurdity of it cracking through my defences like light through stone. “A kraken. In the lake. Why do you even have a kraken?”
“It was here when my predecessors arrived,” Varyth said with a smirk. “Seems rude to evict it.”
The laughter that escaped me felt strange. Foreign. Like wearing someone else’s skin. But it was there, bubbling up despite everything. And for a moment, just one fragile, crystalline moment, the weight lifted.
Lincatheron had been quiet through most of the exchange, that dark gaze tracking the conversation with the focus of someone used to gathering intelligence. Now his attention settled on me, the way a general might evaluate a soldier fresh from the field.
“You look better than the other day,” he said. Direct. No preamble.
The laughter died in my throat.
“Low bar.”
“True.” He reached for his wine, movements economical. “The breach has been sealed. I’ve doubled patrols on the eastern perimeter and implemented rotating guard schedules to prevent pattern recognition. We’re also installing additional ward anchors at fifty-meter intervals.”
I blinked at him. “You’re just—telling me this?”
“You asked about security measures earlier. I’m providing them.”
“Most people would consider that classified information.”
“Most people didn’t just incinerate four attackers to protect their children.” He took a sip of wine, utterly unbothered. “I respect competence. You demonstrated competence. Therefore, you’ve earned transparency regarding your safety.”
