The clearing was quiet—too quiet, if you asked Rook.
He sat on a tree stump, arms folded, brows furrowed in deep suspicion as his eyes darted from the tea kettle to the strange calm of the woman setting out plates on a woven cloth.
Across from him, Leila crouched with narrowed eyes, scanning every motion Mira made like she might suddenly hurl cutlery like throwing knives.
Grey said nothing. He sat on a low rock with his wrists now free, hands loosely folded in front of him, his gaze steady on the woman arranging warm food on white ceramic plates.
Mira, for her part, looked entirely at ease.
She hummed softly as she poured tea—some lullaby half-remembered from childhood—and adjusted the sliced apples just so.
There were soft-boiled eggs. Jam. Biscuits, slightly crumbly. And cheese, wrapped in cloth to keep the morning chill from drying it out.
“If this is a trap,” Rook muttered, “it’s the most polite one I’ve ever seen.”
Mira didn’t look up. “You were already trapped—if I hadn’t untied you.”
“That’s… fair,” Rook admitted, reluctantly accepting the tea.
Lucien stepped forward, his boots quiet against the grass.
He didn’t sit—didn’t need to—but his presence was felt immediately, as if the shadows around the clearing leaned ever so slightly toward him.
“So... let’s begin our conversation. And I’m not going to pretend this isn’t awkward.”
His voice was calm, but not soft. “You were sent here to gather information, right? About the Saintess of the South—about Mira.”
Grey gave a single nod but said nothing.
Lucien continued, “So, what are you going to report now? After everything?”
Grey’s expression remained unreadable, but his eyes flicked briefly toward Mira—still calmly slicing bread as though she weren’t the subject of the conversation.
After a moment, he spoke. “That she’s not just a healer, but also powerful,” he said evenly. “Not ordinary. Not dangerous, but not harmless either.”
Leila looked up from her biscuit. “I’ll say she’s very different from the rumors we heard up north—but some of them still suit her.”
Rook snorted. “Yeah. I wish we’d heard rumors about how powerful she was before we tried spying on her.”
Lucien nodded slowly, taking in their answers. “So you do have sense.”
He crouched slightly, balancing with one hand on his knee, meeting Grey’s level gaze. “Listen carefully. What you say next—what you choose to report—will shape what happens here. Not to you. But to her—and to Mermaid’s Cove.”
Grey’s jaw tensed, but he didn’t interrupt.
“I know Count Elmhurst,” Lucien said, letting the words settle like a weight. “And he’s dangerous.”
Then he added, more quietly, “Do you know why he’s recruiting talented people?”
Lucien didn’t wait for an answer. He rose smoothly, brushing off his coat sleeve as he stepped back into the dappled morning light.
“My own intel says he’s trying to build something off the books. As for what, I don't know. But it’s confirmed he already has a number of elites working for him—each excelling in different fields.”
Grey’s brows knit, the only sign of tension cracking his calm. “Maybe he's building a private army?”
“Not an army,” Lucien said flatly. “He doesn’t need to. He’s already Marshal of the South.”
Leila leaned forward slightly, voice low. “Then what's he up to?”
Lucien sighed. “That, I believe, is the million-gold question…”
The wind shifted through the trees, carrying the scent of herbs and warm bread between them like a fragile peace offering.
Everyone was quiet again, but not unthinking.
Grey's gaze drifted to Mira as she gently nudged a plate toward Leila, then set one in front of Rook, who eyed it like it might bite him.
“Why are you telling us all this?” he finally asked Lucien. “You don’t know us.”
“I don’t,” Lucien agreed. “But I have a talent for telling good people from bad.”
Mira broke a biscuit in half and offered it to Grey. “Just for the record, I don't think you guys are good people. But none of you have the eyes of a killer. That works for me.”
He hesitated, and took it.
Leila frowned faintly. “That’s a dangerous way to judge people.”
“Maybe,” Mira said. “But that's how I’ve lived my life for seventeen years.”
Lucien crossed his arms. “You’re still free to make your report. But if you do… it won’t just be her you put in danger. Because Elmhurst doesn’t take no for an answer. He’ll use every measure to make Mira yield—including threatening this town.”
Silence hung for a moment, broken only by the soft clink of teacups and the wind combing gently through the trees.
Then Rook sighed and grabbed a piece of apple. “So what, we just lie?”
“No,” Lucien said. “You choose what matters. Say you found a skilled healer. But that’s all—not worth the time. Say the rumors were exaggerated. I don’t care how you spin it.”
Leila narrowed her eyes. “You’re asking us to betray our client.”
“I’m offering you something better,” Lucien replied smoothly. “A new one.”
That caught even Grey off guard. “You’re hiring us?”
Lucien nodded once. “You want gold? You’ll earn it. You want purpose? I’ve got a better one than running errands for a man like Elmhurst. Think of this as... an upgrade.”
Rook blinked. “You hired us without even asking if we wanted to be hired?”
“I’m giving you a choice,” Lucien said. “I don’t make offers twice.”
Grey studied him. “And if we say no?”
Lucien shrugged. “Then you walk. I won’t stop you. But the next time we meet, don’t expect any friendly treatment from me."
Mira stood, brushing crumbs from her lap. “Take the day. Think it over. I’ll be here either way.”
Leila’s fingers twitched near her biscuit. “We need to talk to Kael.”
Grey answered for her. “We don’t decide without him.”
Lucien inclined his head. “Fair enough. But don’t take too long. The next move’s already on the board—and you’re standing on it.”
Meanwhile, somewhere in Mermaid’s Cove—
Kael hadn’t meant to stay this long.
At first, it was just a name—a rumor overheard between two drunk fishermen outside the tavern last night.
“Crimson Crow got frozen stiff. Didn’t even have a chance against her.”
He hadn’t thought much of it—until another voice chimed in.
“Yup, that’s our Saintess. We’re lucky to have her here.”
He didn’t burst into action. He just listened more carefully.
And this morning, he confirmed it.
Three separate accounts. One from a dockhand. One from a courier. And one from a peach seller who claimed to have seen it all with her own eyes.
“I was across the street when Mira did it. She made it look so easy,” the broad woman whispered. “She just lifted her hand, and bam, the alley became an ice cave.”
10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFyEaXYURz6
Kael exhaled through his nose and pinched the bridge of it.
“Shit.”
If that was true—and his gut told him it was—then his team didn’t stand a chance against her.
Not Grey. Not Leila. Not Rook.
Even if they had tried anything last night, it wouldn’t have been a fight.
It would’ve been a burial.
His pace quickened down the cobbled path as the cold weight of responsibility settled in his chest.
He’d taken the job expecting a wild card. Maybe a clever mage. A local legend puffed up by rumor.
But Mira wasn’t just a healer living in a sleepy fishing town.
She was something else entirely.
The rumors about the Saintess of the South hadn’t even scratched the surface.
He had to get back. Talk to the others. Make sure none of them had done anything stupid—or worse, already had.
But as he rounded a bend near the southern plaza, Kael came to an abrupt stop.
City guards. Armed, armored, moving with purpose.
And there, beside the Guild Hall steps, stood the Guildmaster himself—barking quiet orders to a man who looked like the captain of the watch.
Kael lingered in the shadows between two shop stalls, eyes narrowing.
Something big was up.
He hesitated.
He could stick around. Listen in. Try to find out what was happening.
But the thought of Grey and the others—alone, sitting across from her—nudged hard at his spine.
They weren’t idiots, but they didn’t know what they were facing.
Kael swore under his breath, turned sharply on his heel, and disappeared into the forest trail.
Whatever was brewing in town would still be there for hours.
But right now, he had a bigger fire to put out.
And it was waiting for him on a hill wrapped in morning mist...
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