The Salt Stone Palace was quiet. Unnaturally so. The Romov wing was usually bustling with nobles and servants alike, and Pacifica's chambers in particular saw heavy traffic. Today, however, the city was occupied with other happenings. The crowds were already gathering at the city gates, and Pacifica hadn't seen a good reason to keep most of the palace staff from taking part.

It wasn't often they would have the chance to see an empress off on a quest to meet her destiny.

Strength poured into her from far away. Immediately afterward, she felt a loss of her ether. The initial gift had been a warning as Adar drew from her to work his spellcraft. Her Ascendent was finishing up the repairs in the ballroom, a parting gift for Ecclesia. He spellwrought fire-damaged marble back to its original state.

Adar sent a little ether back, the signal that he was finished. Pacifica was nearly done with her own preparations and would meet up with the Ascendant in the carriage yard shortly.

Princess Pacifica faced her standing mirror to look herself over. She was dressed for travel. No skirts or corsets, but sturdy leggings and a stiff bodice. The sleeves of her white undershirt had impractical lace ruffles at the cuffs and collar, but Pacifica hadn't been able to resist having a little finery. Otherwise, she wore plain colors and common materials. Waves, but she ought have considered wearing outfits like these more often. Pacifica thought she looked phenomenal. Reyn was on to something by always wearing things like this.

You're leaving Altier Nashal for the first time in your life, she thought, and you're stuck thinking about your outfit? Head out of the clouds, Princess.

Then again, her head was about to be thrown right back into the clouds. Adar wouldn't try to fly off with her right away, would he? Pacifica's short ride on Deebee during the Battle of Ecclesia had been harrowing, though perhaps in a good way. Romovs were traditionally mariners, but Pacifica liked to think that an aviator wouldn't be too bold of a divergence.

Her Ascendent was another source of worry. They'd gotten to know each other somewhat since the ceremony the day before, and Pacifica was positive they could work well together. Even so, Enfri had known Deebee all her life, and Ban had been with Kimpo for a time before their bond was forged. The dragon bonds were ideally intimate connections between two friends. Pacifica could only hope that she and Adar would grow into theirs in the future.

"Are you certain you wish to go, my lady?" Reyn asked as she secured a pair of goggles to Pacifica's head. The goggles were designed to be pulled down over the eyes and pushed back up with ease. The lenses were set in a leather band that covered Pacifica's ears and forehead. More utilitarian than fashionable.

Pacifica finished her braid by tying a gold ribbon at the end. She used a simple knot. Putting a bow in her hair felt wrong. She was a knight now. An arcanist knight, though she supposed she barely qualified for the name; fighting and spellcasting weren't skills she'd ever developed. Pacifica had only been aware of her mark for two weeks, and she'd never received education in any of the five disciplines. Sasha was the arcanist of the two of them.

Enfri didn't become an alchemist until recently. Arcane training isn't necessarily a prerequisite. Still, no more excuses. If I'm going to call myself a Diamond Knight, I have to learn spellcraft of my own. Adar offered to teach me wizardry, and I'd be wise to accept.

Reyn drew closer to where Pacifica stood before the mirror. "My lady?"

"I'm certain," Pacifica said. She reached behind her to take Reyn by the hand. "I appreciate that you're worried about me, but this is my duty now."

"Duty." A slight frown pulled at the corner of Reyn's mouth. "You are far too concerned with what you see as your duty. It has always been so for as long as I've known you."

"Little more than a month," Pacifica reminded her. She smiled as she said it, and Reyn's frown melted. They'd grown quite fond of one another, and that it had come about in so short a time fascinated them both.

Reyn shrugged. "Long enough. You..." She averted her gaze to look at the floor. "I do not like how you dwell on what is honorable. Not when it leads to rash action."

"I can't help but wonder how many rash actions you've actually seen me take."

"Personally? Three."

"Not counting this one."

Reyn blushed. "Two. Agreeing to marry Lord Bannlyth after mending a few fishing nets, and the day we met."

Pacifica's fingers slowed and went still as they made final adjustments to her braid. She'd resolved to think of her first encounter with Reyn as a happy memory, but it often proved difficult to do so. Pacifica hadn't been in a calm state of mind then.

Then again, neither had Reyn.

A seaside cliff, far from Ecclesia. Pacifica held the document requesting her betrothal to Rodrik Karst in one hand, her last letter from Ban in the other. Speculation of Sasha's death rang in her ears. Her house was ended. She approached the cliff's edge, the waves breaking against the rocks below. A decision was made.

"Suicide," Pacifica said through a lump in her throat, "was not the honorable course of action. I thought it was. I was wrong. Reyn, I will always be grateful, but why did you stop me?"

Reyn sniffed. "I ask the same thing each time I find scribe's work waiting for me."

It was tempting to take offense, but instead, Pacifica laughed. "You're so awful. I was trying to have a moment with you."

"This isn't farewell, my lady," Reyn said. She touched Pacifica's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "We are both in Her Majesty's service now."

"You aren't staying at Enfri's estate to look over her ledgers?"

Reyn scoffed in a way that suggested it was to hide a shudder. "Her Majesty employs enough clerks to see to her accounts in my absence." Her face reddened. "And it seems I must remind you again that I am not, in fact, a scribe."

"Yes, yes. Just a cover story, but you're so skilled at it, nonetheless."

Reyn's reddening cheeks became a blush. "It was important to my parents that I be literate. Apprenticing to Ham at the paperworks provided ample opportunity to expand my..."

Pacifica snorted. "Are you sure Lord Lammlyth was wrong to name you a queen? You certainly talk like one."

"It should not be solely within the nobility's reach to become well-read, my lady," Reyn huffed, then her expression softened. "I feel guilty, my lady. I'm leaving your service because I expected Lady Deimi to be your handmaiden. Now, she is your queen and sister-in-law."

"Deimi was already my sister," Pacifica said, feeling wistful. She turned from the mirror and picked up her travel bag. "I only wish I could be here to help her and Sasha, but my place is with Enfri for the time being. In any case, I wouldn't want to bring a handmaiden north with me. Waves, but there's liable to be danger before we're done. I can't imagine Elise will give Kimpo up without a fight."

Reyn looked off to the side. "I suspect not."

Pacifica winced, regretting her mention of Elise. The false empress, and especially Master Deveaux, were a sore spot. Friends or not, Pacifica still felt as if there was a lot about Reyn she didn't know. She was a talented scrivener and scribe, educated to a degree few goodfolk ever received, and more knowledgable about politics than many nobles Pacifica could name. That wasn't what one would normally expect to find in an apprentice paper maker.

There's something special about Reyn. Markedly so. Not to mention she's lovely enough to make a princess envious. I wish she'd just break down and let me introduce her to Lady Anya Kristov. They'd look so fetching together.

"Shall we?" Pacifica asked. She was as ready as she was going to get, and Adar would be waiting in the carriage yard by now.

"I know that look," Reyn said as she opened the door for her.

"What look?"

"You are thinking of playing matchmaker with me again." She kept pace at Pacifica's side through the hallways.

"Sorry. I can't help myself. It's just that Ecclesia has so few eligible women who share your courting preference."

Reyn rolled her eyes before allowing a mischievous gleam to shine through. "As you say, my lady, so I expect to be informed immediately if you ever reconsider your own." She chuckled at Pacifica's embarrassment. "Please, do not dwell on my romantic situation. It is the furthest thing from my mind with what lies ahead."

Pacifica took her by the hand as they left the Romov wing. "And once we're done? When Kimpo is reunited with Ban, Shan Alee is reestablished, and we all have a moment's peace? What will Reyn do then?"

"That depends, my lady."

"On?"

Reyn's eyes went cold and dark. "On if Garret and Elise are still breathing at the end of this expedition."

It hadn't been Pacifica's intention to drudge up ugly memories, but Reyn's wounds were still fresh. They were always close to the surface, and Pacifica's clumsy attempts to cheer her up were making things worse. Perhaps it would be better to face the problem head on than try to ignore it. Pacifica took a bracing breath. "Have you told Enfri why you entered her service?"

"Not in so many words," Reyn admitted. "I doubt Her Majesty would be so trusting of someone seeking revenge against her aunt."

"She may surprise you," Pacifica said. "She, Jin, and Ban all have reasons to go after those murderers. Knowing you have the same goal would help them to trust you."

The cold darkness left her eyes, replaced by something more saddened. "I am sorry, my lady, but them trusting me is not the problem."

Pacifica nodded, feeling a bit like the wind had been taken out of her sails. Not for the first time, she considered turning her elder magic towards figuring Reyn out a little more. As before, she stopped herself. Everyone was entitled to their privacy. Pacifica already knew what must have been her deepest secret, but there was so much more about her than her true identity. Though Pacifica wished that Reyn would confide in her a little more, it would be wrong to force the issue.

They walked in silence until they came to the carriage yard. As expected, Adar waited alongside a pair of other dragons that were accompanying Enfri north. Their bonded knights, also.

Paladins Hugin and Rav, now Emerald and Onyx Knights, were mounted on Nooka and Elloo. The dragons had their heads bent low so to more easily converse with Hugin and Rav's daughter. Veronika was thirteen but still had an expression of childlike awe when she looked at her fathers and their dragons. The girl, a squire, wore a green and gold tabard over her leather gambeson. Perhaps in a few years, she would also become an arcanist knight.

Veronika noticed Pacifica and Reyn entering the carriage yard first. She snapped to attention and gave a smart salute. Her fathers took a moment to beam with pride before saluting also. The Constable and the Artificer inclined their heads in respect.

"By your leave, my lady," Reyn said, "I should return to Her Majesty."

Pacifica would rather Reyn stay with her. She didn't think they were parting on the best note, but it would be selfish to keep her when she had other things to attend to. "You'll visit me when we make camp?"

"Of course." Reyn hesitated, then stepped forward to embrace Pacifica. "I told Her Majesty that I did not come to Ecclesia to make friends. This is true, but I am happy to say that I did."

Pacifica returned the hug and kissed Reyn's cheek before pulling away. "Me as well. I'll see you tonight."

Reyn avoided Pacifica's eyes as she turned to leave. She walked quickly out of the carriage yard. For whatever reason, she rarely stuck around longer than necessary in the presence of dragons.

Pacifica watched Reyn go before resuming her way towards Adar. The titanic gold, always impeccably formal, bowed low before laying on his belly to make it easier for her to climb onto his back. His beautiful, blue eyes flickered towards Reyn.

"If I may ask, my lady, who is that young woman? Each time I see her, I am struck by her scent. It's subtle, but far different from other mortals."

Pacifica considered how to answer as she climbed up Adar's forearm. Despite everything, her first meeting with Reyn truly was a happy memory.

The water closed around her. The fall hadn't killed her as she had intended, and now she would drown. Pacifica wanted to meet her end with peaceful calm, but she was instead filled with panic. She knew that she had made a terrible and irrevocable choice.

Through the murky depths, a glow appeared in the distance. A girl, bathed in etherlight from the sigil engraved on her necklace, swam to Pacifica's side and took her by the hand. Pacifica felt a flash of supernatural fear at the sight. The mysterious girl had no legs, but a tail with broad, leathery flukes.

Pacifica knew of creatures such as this from stories, their image used in heraldry and fanciful tapestries. There were legends of forgotten empires beneath the waves, siren songs that lured sailors to their doom, and of a race of shifter living within the sea as easily as upon land.

The girl was singing, the music carrying through the water and banishing Pacifica's fear. She pulled Pacifica close and kissed her, granting life-giving air and something that felt like golden warmth. Pacifica's rescuer, the selkie, bore Pacifica back to the surface.

Pacifica settled into place at the base of Adar's neck. One foot planted firmly each of his shoulders, and her hands gripped his scales. She was able to balance easily as Adar walked out from the carriage yard.

"Reyn is my friend," Pacifica said. "Enfri couldn't ask for a better handmaiden."

oOo

Ban took in a deep breath. The corridors beneath the Salt Stone Palace thrummed with each crash of the waves against the cliffside. Surrounded by stone and burning oil lanterns, Ban could almost forget that he wasn't the last mortal left in the world.

Just the last Karst.

He had Sasha's promise that the hydromancers would be cared for as wards of House Romov. They wouldn't fall to ruin along with the rest of the house. Ban doubted even Uncle Lamb really understood what was happening.

House Karst, once the one and only elder house of Altier Nashal, greatest power of the frozen south, had come to its final generation. Perhaps Traysul or one of Lammlyth's sons may yet carry on the family name, but the house itself would never again hold power in Ecclesia. Ban's future was with Enfri and Shan Alee, with Rippling Moon and the goblins.

He was First Knight of Shan Alee, Lord of Rubies, and Knight-Marshal of the Dragon Empress' legion. Such as it was. Two thousand untested armsmen and almost fifty dragons, a small fraction of that actually heading north on this expedition. Ban supposed that Shan Alee, as of yet a kingdom without borders, possessed a greater force than some of the smaller client kingdoms. Nonetheless, compared with the countless thousands commanded by Althandor, they were still a small fish swimming amongst the seawolves.

We're an Aleesh house now, Ban thought. He found it surprising that this carried a measure of pride along with it. Waves, but he was Aleesh now, by virtue of allegiance if not by blood. He had no illusions that his fair skin would spare him from Althandor's wrath should this all go poorly. It was likely that he would be seen as even worse than the Dragon Empress. Some already called him a traitor to both his liege and his race.

It was stupid that standing beside Enfri meant standing against the rest of the Five Kingdoms. The two loyalties shouldn't have been mutually exclusive.

Bah. People had been calling Ban a traitor so often and to so many things that the word had lost its meaning. But still, it rankled. If even for just a moment, Ban wanted to forget his problems and remember kinder days.

He could almost see it. Instead of the door to the augurs' orrery, he was about to enter his mother's chambers. He opened the door and stepped into a sumptuous sitting room. Sunlight streamed in from the balcony. Golden seawolves swam within deep green seas on the walls. Busts of ancient heroes sat on plinths. Chief among the tapestries was one depicting a crimson-haired man kneeling at the feet of a tall and pale woman in a flowing white gown, her hand laying upon the crown of the original Karst's head.

Mother walked into the room from her bedchamber. Her smile was tired when she looked at him. Lady Ascania Karst had always been beautiful, eternally so due to her mark. Her violet eyes were brilliant and clear, her auburn hair worn long and free. She'd been humming, a soft and sweeping tune in minor key, the lullaby she sang long ago to send Ban to sleep.

"To what do I owe the honor of this visit?" she asked in a tight voice. "You don't come often, my husband."

Ban blinked. The memory of his mother's chambers melted away and left him standing within the augurs' orrery. The chamber of hewn stone, floored with panels of riveted bronze, carried a chill coming in from the cave-like opening out onto the coastal cliffside. Salty spray from the breaking waves dampened the rock. The clockwork orrery itself had been carted away in pieces days earlier, much to the residents' relief. In its place, there were a few more furnishings to sit on and enjoy the fresh air coming in off the sea.

Ascania looked Ban up and down as she gathered books from the tables about the room. "You come armored for battle, Niklaus. Is it already the season for the Southrons to come reaving?"

Do I really look so much like him? Ban wondered. He touched fingers to his jaw and found a growth of stubble. It wasn't quite the beard Father sported in his youth nor the long mustache of his later years. Perhaps it was enough that his mother's fractured memories would see Niklaus Karst instead of Bannlyth.

His visits over the last few days had been hard for him. Often, Ascania wouldn't recognize him at all. When Ban told her who he was, his mother would break down, mournful of the time she had lost with him. Even when she recognized Ban, he couldn't bring himself to confess everything to her.

How could Ban tell her that Father and Rodrik were dead? How could Ban say that he had wielded the sword that slew his brother? She would soon forget, return to her fantasies, and suffer the heartbreak all over again. Ban lied to his mother with each visit, and even as it spared her from the pain, he felt the weight of his cowardly silence staining his heart.

This time, perhaps the last time, he still couldn't bring himself to tell her. Whether he spoke lies or the truth, either would be for selfish reasons. Whatever he did, it would be to salve his own conscience when her needs were what he should be protecting. There was no right answer that he could find, but he had to see her once more before he left. And tell her goodbye.

"I... ride out today," Ban said. "It may be a long time before we see one another again."

Ascania stopped short, worry in her expression. "Niklaus. What is wrong?"

Ban ran a hand through his hair, his words failing him. It was difficult to see Mother like this. Lost in the past, unable to hold onto the present. Perhaps it was a weakness in Ban's resolve, a chink in the armor a man should guard his heart with. All the same, Ban wished for his mother.

"Only thieves, Ascania, but I'll need to go far to bring them to justice." He let out a breath before continuing. "There was a wedding yesterday. I thought you would be there."

Ascania looked off to the side, eyes growing distant as they did when she was confronted with the here and now. "There was, wasn't there. Forgive me, husband. I can't remember why now, but I found it difficult to..." She pressed a hand over her heart, breaths growing stilted.

"It's all right," Ban said, stepping closer. "It wasn't much of one. The party afterwards, however, was something else."

His mother gave him a wry look. "Is that so?"

Ban chuckled. "I promise I didn't indulge too much. Never begin a deployment hungover. First thing they taught me as a squire."

"Don't let the boys hear talk like that," Ascania scolded playfully. "They mustn't know their lord father has secret ambitions for being a ruffian."

Did he now? Ban thought with amusement. The way he went on about temperance, I figured he never knew what vodka tasted like.

"Who was married again?" Ascania asked as she returned to her book gathering.

"One of the hand knights," Ban said. "Wed to a girl from House Drunov."

Ascania hummed. "I wish them happiness."

"That's the thing," Ban murmured. "I don't think they're a good match. They're friendly enough, but it's... political. Like we were." He looked away from the glance she shot him. "Just like we were, in fact."

"Niklaus," Ascania said softly, "What's gotten into you?"

Ban laughed mirthlessly. "During the ceremony, the groom leaned over and asked about a boy throwing glances at his wife-to-be. A friend of ours even thought we meant the lad harm. Scolded our ears off over it, to be honest. Had to explain to her that we meant to invite him to hammer out an arrangement. One not so different from the one we have. A wedding is a wedding, but that doesn't make it a marriage."

Ascania paused, then set her books down in a pile.

Ban didn't know for certain that there had ever been such an arrangement between Niklaus and Ascania. Perhaps he only hoped that his parents had had as much honor as Sasha did. The look Ascania gave Ban told him that his hopes had been in vain.

"You know?" Ascania asked in a whisper.

"Of you and our queen?" Ban asked.

His mother held her breath, violet eyes fearful.

"It's a secret I will carry to my grave, Ascania. You deserve happiness, and I pray to the waves that Istra gives it to you." He took another step towards her, now within arm's reach. Ban took his mother's hand in both of his, gentle. His gauntlets dwarfed her hand, enfolding it completely. "That is what love is, isn't it? Wanting your happiness more than my own."

She looked him in the eyes, confused and wary. "Why would you stay silent? I've dishonored you."

"You're the mother of my sons. No supposed dishonor could outweigh what you've given me."

Her lip trembled. "Why haven't you told me? Waves, Niklaus, but do you have any idea of how terrified I've been each time I meet with Istra? We hardly dare to even look at each other in public."

"I should have made it more plain from the start," Ban said, apologizing in his father's stead. "But only a fool could see you two looking at each other and not recognize the face of love. Even the children can see it."

Ascania's eyes widened.

"You have nothing to fear from me. I swear it. You'll never be asked to pay a ransom because of love. Bannlyth... Pacifica and Sasha... They will never forget the lessons they've learned from you."

"Could it be?" Ascania murmured. "All this time, there's been a good man under that armor?"

"I'm sorry I've given you cause to doubt."

She shook her head and smiled. "No. Not really. Blame my stubbornness for not seeing a friend where I should have."

Ascania guided Ban to sit on a nearby bench, and she sat down next to him. "Thank you, Niklaus."

Ban nodded, unable to look at her.

"Rodrik and Bannlyth are lucky to have such a man in their life. I could hope for no better father for my boys."

"I am proud of our son, Ascania."

Ban smiled as he remembered his father's last words. He kept faith over what Niklaus Karst had meant to say with them. Even so, his heart felt heavy. Fatherhood was a weighty prospect, so much responsibility to mold a young life.

He'd given his heart to a goblin. No one had come out and said it yet, but Ban understood that meant he was unlikely to ever become a father himself. He loved Rippling Moon with everything he was, but he would be lying if he said he accepted the consequences without reservation. Ban had always assumed that he would one day have children of his own. Now, with a partner who wasn't human and had been born with a red body, that wouldn't be. But, perhaps it was for the best. Bannlyth Karst and responsibility were rarely spoken of in the same breath.

All the same, Ban mourned the children he would never have.

"What's this?" Ascania asked gently. She wiped at Ban's eye with a thumb. "Tears, Niklaus?"

Embarrassed, Ban turned his head from her. "Hard days," he said. "A lot of things are changing. Leads a man to think about the life he's lived, and I can't say I care for what I see."

"Change lies at the heart of progress," Ascania said. "The self changes more often than all, and one need not lay judgement on their past so long as it serves positive growth."

Ban recognized the passage. "Quoting Fullwyn again?"

"He meant people must be able to forgive themselves. No one was ever born perfect. We only try to inch ever closer."

Ban let out a long breath. "I've been a lout most of my life. Looking back, I don't like who I've been. I've treated women poorly, I've let my anger rule my conscience, and I've killed men I once claimed to love."

Ascania pursed her lips. "Nonsense. The Niklaus I know and respect has always been among the most honorable of men. I wouldn't have allowed a man like the one you describe to become the head of my father's house."

That would have meant the world to Father. For himself, it felt like a dagger twisting in his gut. He was the Karst now, and within a week of becoming its head, he'd dismantled a dynasty that had endured for six hundred years.

"Enough talk of regrets," Ascania said. "Shall we send for Rod and Ban? It feels like ages since I've seen them, and you say it'll be a long while before we're together again."

Not until the Beyond, Mother, Ban thought sadly. "Waves alone know where Bannlyth's off to, and Rodrik has his squire duties."

Ascania sighed. "As you say. Dear, little Rod. He wants so desperately to be his father. It's only a matter of time before he becomes a blossom knight like you."

"He'll be a song knight," Ban murmured without thinking.

"You think so? Ban's so much better with the Aeldenn Tones. I think he'll be the witch."

"Rune knight."

Ascania chuckled. "Husband, now that's just cruel. Ban hates writing."

Only because you make him pen dry passages when he'd rather be making sigils.

"But if Rod applies himself," Ascania said, "he can accomplish anything he sets his mind to. He's so much like you in that way. Our dutiful, little lord. He'll make for a fine head of house when his time comes."

Ban hid his grimace. "He'd make for a better Lord Karst than the scamp."

"I know I didn't just hear you speak ill of our youngest," Ascania said. "Rod is the heir every noble house dreams of having, but don't you dare suggest that Ban is any less."

"The boy plays with street urchins," Ban grumbled.

"So he does, and I think he's better for it." Ascania leaned against his shoulder. "You know, I followed him once when he snuck out of the palace. He thought he was being so secretive, crawling through a little gap in the southeastern wall, but I managed to find his trail before he reached the harbor."

"You did?" Ban asked, genuinely surprised.

Ascania nodded. "Naturally. I was worried he'd get in over his head. Some Irdish conman might have recognized him, or he'd get taken in by a gang of ruffers. I had to make sure he wasn't going to get himself into trouble."

"So one of the most important women in the Five Kingdoms decided to go after him alone?" Ban asked incredulously.

His mother blushed. "Ban comes by his impetuousness honestly."

Ban chuckled, unable to argue the point.

"Yes, I followed him, and do you know what I found?"

Oh, waves. I can only imagine which trip to the harbor she might have seen.

"Our son dressed himself in rags and gathered up as many street urchins he could find to organize a cageball game." Ascania covered her mouth to hide her laugh. "You should have seen them. You'd think he was one of the blessed saints the way those children looked up to him."

Ban had almost forgotten that day. Floundering fun game, too. Had Mother really been there watching the whole time? "Cageball's no hobby for a lord's son," he said.

Ascania batted his chest with the back of her hand. "None of that. He was enjoying himself, but that isn't the part that makes me admire our son."

"Admire him?"

She nodded. "He took coins with him. After the game was done, he handed out purses to his friends. Something for them to live on until the next time he came down."

Ban blushed, but Ascania misinterpreted his reddening face.

"Don't be angry. I followed him into the harbor now and then after that. He always brought his allowance. It was like he thought he was paying those children to play with him."

How else is a lordling supposed to make friends? Seems so juvenile now.

"From what I've learned over the years," Ban said, "that sort of thing would be seen as an insult. They'd take his coins and mock him once he was out of earshot."

Ascania shook her head. "Once— just the once, mind you, because it was the last time I felt the need to follow him— I stayed behind when Ban went back to the palace. I had the same worry you just gave voice to. As soon as Ban was gone, do you know what his friends did?"

"Gorged themselves at the street vendors?" Ban had always thought that's what he would do in their place.

"Those boys and girls, who had next to nothing of their own, handed out Ban's coins. They gave them to blind beggars and crippled children, anyone in more need than themselves."

Ban furrowed his brow.

"That's who our son is, Niklaus. He inspires others. He makes them... better. Ban Karst is a kind boy with a big heart. He loves. Rodrik is dutiful and disciplined, and he will become a great lord one day— maybe even a king. But Bannlyth? Ban is a knight."

Throat tight and eyes blurring, Ban didn't trust his voice enough to respond. He took his mother's hand again and managed a trembling nod.

Through the cave's mouth, the sound of bells ringing reached his ears. It wasn't the harsh insistence of an alarm. These bells rang in celebration.

"Oh," Ascania exclaimed as she turned to look to the opening. "What's that all about?"

"I think it's my sendoff," Ban said. "I should hurry, or they're going to leave me behind."

She looked up at him as he rose to his feet. She stood as well but didn't release her hold on his hand. "There's something different about you today, Niklaus. Are you certain you're well?"

"Well enough. Goodbye, Ascania."

She let go of his hand. "Goodbye, Niklaus. Be safe on your journey."

Ban smiled for her as he turned to leave. If this really was goodbye, he would have that be the last thing his mother saw of him.

Even if she wouldn't remember it.