Lindarion said nothing.
'Of all the things to be famous for. Beating so egotistical kid in a spar. Fantastic.'
Ren smiled. "Well. That explains your attitude."
ren squinted. "Wait. Wait wait wait. Are you saying he's… like, actually a prince? Not a taphor?"
Ardan let out a long breath. "Yes, ren. That's exactly what she's saying."
Lira stepped back.
"You should not be walking with exiles."
Ren stretched her legs. "Too late."
"They are beneath him."
"He walks where he wants."
Lira's eyes narrowed. "So do wolves."
Lindarion moved past her and sat. Not on the carved bench. Just on the floor, next to the fire. One knee up. His eyes didn't leave hers.
"I am not a wolf," he said. "I am very tired. And I am not leaving."
Lira said nothing for a mont.
Then, quietly, "You should have hit Sylas harder."
Ren laughed.
"Make tea," she said. "He's earned it."
ren sank down next to Lindarion, eyeing him like he might suddenly sprout a throne. "Prince, huh?"
Lindarion didn't answer.
'And now they know. Perfect.'
—
The tea slled like bark and burnt honey.
Lira didn't speak while she made it. She moved with the kind of silence that ca from doing the sa thing too many tis.
Her hands barely paused between pouring, steeping, straining, pressing. The kettle didn't whistle. It breathed. Just like everything else in this place.
Ren leaned against the wall now, arms folded, watching nothing.
Ardan sat near the door. Not relaxed. But not tense either. He was like furniture with teeth.
ren huddled close to the fire and stared at Lindarion like he was trying to match a wanted poster to a drawing of soone who used to be his neighbor.
"So," ren said. "Prince."
Lindarion took the tea Lira handed him. It was too hot. He didn't sip.
"Don't," he said.
ren grinned. "Don't what?"
"Whatever is about to co out of your mouth."
"You don't know that."
"Yes, I do."
ren held up his hands. "Okay, fine. No jokes. I'm just saying. It's weird."
Lindarion arched an eyebrow.
"I an, you don't act royal," ren said.
"I am sitting on the floor," Lindarion said.
"Exactly. I've t nobles. Most of them wouldn't sit on a bench if you paid them."
Ardan grunted. "He's not most."
Ren finally looked up. "What was it like?"
Lindarion didn't answer.
Ren nodded once, slow. "That good, huh."
Lira passed a second cup to Ardan. Her movents had lost their suspicion. Not her attention. She still watched Lindarion out of the corner of her eye like a riddle she hadn't finished solving.
Lindarion took a sip.
It was bitter. Not in a bad way. Just like it had sothing to say and didn't care if he wanted to hear it.
"Quiet," he said.
Ren blinked. "Sorry?"
"You asked what it was like," Lindarion said. "It was quiet."
She tilted her head.
"There were people around," he said. "Always. But the kind that look at you like a glass they're not allowed to touch. Everyone polite. Everyone careful. No one was totally honest, or at least that's what it seed like. Not to ntion the expectations I will have to face."
Ardan sipped his tea.
ren frowned. "Didn't you have, I don't know, tutors? Guards?"
"I had all of those," Lindarion said.
"But?"
Lindarion stared at the fire. "It's hard to make actual accomplices when you're being asured every second."
Ren's voice ca softer now. "So you best Sylas just to get attention? I don't get it.."
He smiled faintly.
"No. I beat him because I wanted to prove a point."
Even Lira's hands stilled.
"I was around six," Lindarion said. "He was twice my size. I thought it would an sothing or satisfy ."
ren blinked. "And you dropped him?"
"Yeah."
Ren gave a low whistle. "Damn."
"It was definitely not diplomatic," Ardan said.
"No," Lindarion said. "But it was a correct spar."
Silence moved back in. This one felt different. Less suspicious. More like space had opened up where sothing unspoken used to sit.
Ren stirred her tea with one finger.
"Still," she said. "You don't talk like a prince."
"Because I listen more than I speak," Lindarion said.
"Really?" ren said. "Because you also complain a lot."
Lindarion glanced sideways at him.
"That," he said, "is survival instinct."
They all drank.
Lira stayed standing.
Eventually, Ren said, "What do you want from him?"
Lira didn't flinch. "Nothing."
"You recognized him the mont we walked in."
"Because I know stories."
"So do I," Ren said. "That doesn't an I bow to them."
"I didn't bow."
"You're still standing."
Lira didn't respond.
Lindarion finished his tea. He set the cup down with care.
"He's not a story," Lira said finally. "He's a warning."
ren leaned forward. "Of what?"
Lira's eyes t Lindarion's.
"Of what happens when the wrong prince learns to win."
Ren's smile thinned.
"I don't think he's the wrong one," she said.
Lindarion didn't speak. Not yet. His thoughts didn't move like a river. They ca in pieces.
'Let her think what she wants.'
'Let them all guess.'
'The truth is quieter than any of them can hear.'
—
Lindarion didn't speak for a while. He let the fire shift. Let the room settle again. The silence wasn't tense this ti. Just brittle. Like sothing new was balancing on top of sothing old.
Then he looked at Lira.
"Your turn," he said.
She didn't blink. Just watched him the sa way she had since the beginning. Like she was waiting to be wrong about him.
"My turn for what," she said.
"You know who I am," he said. "I don't know you."
"You don't need to."
He tilted his head. "But I want to."
Ren raised an eyebrow, amused.
Lira's jaw tensed once. "Curiosity can be a slow kind of poison, Prince."
"So can silence," Lindarion said.
She set the kettle down with a bit too much care.
"I was born under the third eclipse," she said finally.
ren groaned. "Please don't start with so fate and shadows story.. My head's already cracked open from earlier."
Lira ignored him. Her gaze stayed on Lindarion.
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