Argrave stared at the Margrave beside his wyvern. Reinhardt did not advance or retreat, merely stared at them with an indiscernible expression, one hand on the pommel of the sword at his belt, and the other on the horn of his wyvern.

“Couldn’t have spotted him, Galamon?” Argrave whispered to his companion.

“There was a wall,” Galamon noted. “And you gave no time to scout. Not even with that bird.”

Argrave ground his hands together. “I know. I just want to complain.”

“That’s the patriarch of House Parbon?” Durran asked, some excitement on his tone.

“He is remaining by his wyvern in case he needs to retreat, I suspect,” Anneliese noted, ignoring Durran’s query.

“Alright, alright,” Argrave finally turned. “Nobody do a damn thing. Just stay still.” After giving that command, Argrave let out some curses. “Alright. God damn it all.”

Argrave took a step ahead, and breathed deeply, trying his best to appear confident. “The three of you will wait here. I’ll go alone, resolve things. I’m sure he won’t be spooked by that.”

“That is dangerous,” Anneliese protested.

“I’ll be fine. I got away from him once before unscathed, and I can do it again if need be.” Argrave walked away.

“Argrave…” Anneliese called out once again, and he heard her step forward.

Argrave turned and held both his hands out, palms facing her. “I’ll be fine.”

She stared, and then nodded. “Be careful,” she cautioned, not entirely satisfied by his assurance.

With a wink, he turned back to the Margrave and his wyvern. Though he walked confidently and kept his expression firm, his Brumesingers writhed within his clothing, mirroring his own anxiety. He kept his hands in plain sight, and far away from any pockets within his gray leather duster. Though the Margrave did not lower his hand from the sword at his belt, he did not flee or brace himself.

Argrave came to stand across from Margrave Reinhardt. He kept a fairly large distance between them, but he was close enough to hear the wyvern’s breathing. The Margrave glared up at him with his ruby eyes, expression inscrutable.

“Hi,” Argrave repeated his earlier greeting.

“Argrave,” Reinhardt finally said. “Barely recognized you.”

Argrave brushed one hand through his hair. Certainly, he was tanner, his hair was longer, and his eyes were much, much different. “Hopefully the change is positive.”

is this?” the Margrave questioned with a growl. “An ambush?

quickly shook his head, and then rubbed his cheek with one hand. “If you want me to be honest… we

clenched his wyvern’s horns tighter, showing possessiveness. “You

back there could provide,” Argrave pointed back. “He’s from one of the southern tribes. Son of a chieftain, actually. And yes, you’re not mishearing things,” Argrave continued, falling into his practiced suave rhythm. “He’s from the southern tribes. Meaning I’ve been in the Burnt Desert these past…

and I won’t bore you with it. But!” Argrave raised a finger. “I had to get back to Vasquer. And passing through that big gate beneath the Lionsun Wall—something tells me that would never, ever happen. So, I just wanted to sneak through here. I am sorry

He digested Argrave’s words in silence, ruby eyes retaining their cold glare. Eventually, his head

I travelled the Low Way of the Rose,” Argrave answered quickly, anticipating the question. He let his answer hang

brows, glancing Argrave up and down. The second he opened his mouth to say more, Argrave cut in, “If you’d like, you can confirm with the Stonepetal Sentinels that I travelled through there a little while ago. While we didn’t part on the best of terms, I’m certain you

scanned Argrave’s face, perhaps trying to discern if he was

Way of the Rose,” Argrave continued. “While I wouldn’t care for it, if it can

of most happenings throughout Vasquer. He could learn news of the plague,

be far removed from what he knew usually happened. He needed to find out how much things had deviated and adjust his plans accordingly, per Anneliese’s advice. And she was right. Slowing down to do things deliberately would always be better, even if it wasn’t optimal. Though he’d

at the Low Way, that doesn’t mean what you’ve explained here is true,”

held his hands out. “I helped Elias, didn’t I? I secured that betrothal with Jast, helped your

help her, too?” the Margrave said, dead-eyed stare

of thing he had a response ready for. A father who loved his children would never forget that someone

am… sorry, you know,” Argrave said quietly, keeping his gaze

Margrave’s gauntlets creak as he clenched the pommel of the sword on his belt tighter. “You always maintained

apologize.” He lowered his head in a bow, but kept his eyes locked with Reinhardt’s. “And if your daughter is willing to accept it, I would extend my apology to her, personally. But if she

sword’s pommel further, and then relaxed. He raised the hand to

even here, you…” he took his hand off his forehead and clenched it into a fist. “You have done right by my house, and I wronged

“Yes, they will,” he confirmed

yours, will be heavily guarded and watched.” Reinhardt’s

protest. “Thank you for giving me a chance, Margrave Reinhardt. I’m

Margrave studied his face when he mentioned Stain and Elias. Argrave was perplexed for a moment before the Margrave said bitterly, “My son isn’t

raised a brow

#####

south at an alarming rate. Elias and Stain were locked in in a siege caused by a revolt at Elbraille, where the plague ran especially rampant. The Margrave seemed to have

whispered, sitting beside Anneliese as she rested in bed. He hunched over his knees,

pointed out as she stared up at

confidence…” Argrave lifted up his head and looked at her. “…comes from

and he flinched in

Argrave paused. “Forget about

shook her head

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