“Noah,” he says, voice small but firm. After a pause, he adds, “Miss.”
“And the girl?”
“She’s my little sister, Dove.”
Nalaka nods. “How old are you, Noah?”
“Nine.”
Nine...He wasn’t even alive when the war ended, and still, he’s one of its casualties.
“And your parents?” Noah doesn’t answer; he just looks down, sniffling, not dressed appropriately for this weather, his little fists balling at his sides. Without pushing, Nalaka places the pouch with the note in his hand, closing his fingers gently around it.
“Take this to the library,” she says. “Give it to the steward. They’ll know what to do. Everything’s going to be okay.” She pauses. “Do you want me to walk you there?”
“No! I’m big enough. I can walk by myself,” Noah insists, chin lifted, his small shoulders squaring.
“Attaboy,” Nalaka says with a soft grin, ruffling his dirty hair before swinging back onto her horse. Noah takes Dove’s hand, his fingers clutching the pouch, the first real piece of hope he’s held in a long time. Just before they vanish around the corner, he turns and calls out, voice clear and bright.
“Thank you, Miss!”
I watch them disappear into the crowd, the moment lingering longer than it should.
“Elveron’s lucky to have you as its future ruler,” I say before I can think better of it. Nalaka doesn’t smile, doesn’t deflect with modesty or wear the compliment like armour. She just exhales, slow and heavy. Her eyes drift somewhere far away, as if I’ve brushed against a part of her that still bruises. She clearly was born for this, heir to a kingdom, raised with duty braided into every word. Trained to lead, to protect, to carry this weight, and she does it like a second skin.
Me? Most days, I’m still figuring out how to stand upright in a world that keeps trying to swallow me whole. And yet… Instead of pride, my words seem to settle like a shadow across her face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Her gaze stays fixed ahead, but there’s a sigh tucked into the word. “We’re all doing our best, Lyna. Don’t be so hard on yourself. You were thrown into a whole new world, and you’re still standing, moving forward… Honestly? I’m not sure I could’ve done the same if our roles were reversed.” She reaches out and squeezes my shoulder, the kind of gesture that says everything she won’t let herself say out loud. And for a moment, I don’t argue. Not because I believe her, but because she does.
It reminds me of someone else I know, the broody blond type. Quiet intensity, all sharp edges and self-sacrifice. The kind who carries more than his share just to make sure no one elsehas to. And just like with him, I wonder how long she can carry the weight before it breaks them. The thought doesn’t have time to linger; we arrive in front of a boutique. It looked like it was plucked straight out of a fairytale, so wildly out of place among the weathered stone and worn-out storefronts. In the window, a mannequin stands wrapped in deep azure silk, a fabric that catches light. It shimmers in the sun as starlight caught in motion. Even from the sidewalk, I feel it, that pull, as if the boutique already knows my name. Spicy, sweet, overwhelming aroma that drifts and envelops me.
Essence.
I clamp down, focusing on my shielding, picturing the meadow in my mind. But slowly, the image blurs. The colours distort and shift, it becomes the manor instead. The gates stand open. I try to close them, to make them budge shut. Using all my will. Pain explodes through my head.
A pain I know all too well now, followed by darkness.
King Loras leans in,that familiar grin tugging at his mouth, half mischief, half warmth. His hazel eyes sparkle as if he’s about to tell us the punchline of a joke only he knows. Always making everything sound like a secret mission, as if you’re being let in on something rare and important. To anyone else, he might seem theatrical;to me, he’s just Dad.
“Alright,” he says, dropping his voice like we’re plotting a heist. “Shielding your mind isn’t about building a wall so tall no one can climb it. It's about knowing when to open the door, and when to lock it tight.”
Kai slouches beside me like he’s being forced to eat asparagus. He’s already annoyed, already acting as if he is too good to be here.And honestly?I’d rather be training, too. He’s not the only one destined to become a great warrior. But Dad says shielding is just as important, maybe even more.
King Loras paces the study, the star of a play. His velvet tunic sweeps behind him, part of the performance. My dad’s black hair is always the perfect kind of messy—effortless, as if it styles itself. I definitely get that from him.
Kai scowls. “Why do I have to learn this? I’m not some witch-in-training. I’m a lycan.”
Dad just chuckles, unfazed. He smiles, the kind that makes other grown-ups second-guess themselves and curious kids lean in closer. The King looks like the hero of a bedtime story who decided being predictable was boring, but too warm for me and Alek to ever really scare us.
“Because, young Brackwell, knowledge is power, but power without protection? That’s just an invitation. Like leaving the castle gates wide open with a banner that says, ‘Come help yourself.’ People don’t respect what they can exploit.” While talking, Dad hands me a small wooden shield. It’s just a training piece, but somehow, it makes everything feel moresolid.As if the lesson isn’t just in our heads, but something I can actually hold on to.
“Now, picture this,” he continues. “Your mind is a castle. You’ve got walls and secret passageways if you’re clever. But the key is to know when to lower the drawbridge or when to bolt the gates.” Kai sighs but shifts forward, just enough to show he’s listening. Dad’s grin returns, playful.
“Let’s try it. I want you both to imagine a shield. Something that blocks out anything you don’t want others to see or hear. Feel its energy. It doesn’t have to be perfect; it just has to work. If you're feeling static… You’re on the right track.”
Kai groans but closes his eyes, as if he’s wrestling with a bear. And I know what I am talking about, I saw him wrestle a cub when he was a pup because they both wanted the same fish. Following suit, I close my eyes and try to imagine what my mind looks like. A tower, maybe, with soft light inside and thick stone walls.No, that isn’t right.A place where nothing can hurt me…
