The morning light spilled warm and quiet across the kitchen of their house—soft golden beams catching on the windowsills, the scent of dew and earth drifting in through the open window. Somewhere outside, the breeze stirred the windchimes Lyra had hung from the rafters.

She stepped barefoot across the tile floor, a small envelope in hand.

“Mail run?” Hassian asked without looking up. He sat at the table with his bow disassembled before him, restringing it with methodical care. Tau lay dozing underneath, one ear twitching now and then.

“Just one thing.” Lyra held up the envelope. “It’s fancy. Gold wax seal. Eshe’s.”

Hassian’s fingers stilled. “Subira.”

Lyra broke the seal and opened the note. Her eyebrows lifted. “Yep. Invitation to her welcome party. This evening, at the Mayor’s estate.”

He leaned back slightly, thoughtful. “She must’ve arrived early.”

Lyra set the invitation on the table and sat across from him. “People keep talking about her like she’s royalty. Why is this such a big deal?”

“She’s a Watcher with the Order,” Hassian said simply. “That alone makes her important.”

Lyra tilted her head, processing. “So… she’s not just here to say hello.”

“No,” Hassian said. “There’s something the Order is interested in here. I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

Lyra drummed her fingers once on the edge of the table, then went still. “Do you think she’ll want to talk to me?”

“I’d be surprised if she didn’t,” Hassian said. “You’ve done a lot of work in the temples with Jina—I’m sure she’ll be interested in that. And you’ve built a life here. That might catch her attention.”

Lyra arched a brow. “We haven’t actually told anyone we’re engaged yet.”

He gave a small, sheepish smile. “Well, I’d be proud to—if I actually talked to anyone.”

That earned him a laugh, soft but genuine.

“She’ll probably ask what you remember about your past, before your emergence,” he went on.

“That part of the conversation will be short,” Lyra said lightly.

He studied her across the table. “You told me before that you didn’t care—that it doesn’t matter. Do you still feel that way?”

Lyra nodded. “I do. I don’t remember it, and it doesn’t matter. What I have now matters.”

Hassian’s gaze softened. “Sometimes I find myself wondering. What you were like before. If you were anything like the woman you are now. The kind of life you had… what you might’ve gone through. If there was someone else who held you close at night the way I do.”

Lyra’s voice gentled, though her smile lingered. “And that’s the danger in thinking too much about it. The what ifs will make you crazy. I thought about it a lot in the beginning, but I knew I had to let it go. If I hadn’t, we wouldn’t be sitting here now.”

“I get that,” he said quietly. “You’re so strong. I’m glad you are, baby.”

He hesitated, then added, “When you woke up… Saraya was with you, right?”

Lyra nodded. “Yes. We woke up at the same time.”

“Have you ever noticed the similarities between you?” he asked. “Your mannerisms, the way you speak… you look like you could be sisters.”

Lyra smiled, soft and certain. “We’ve talked about it. We are sisters—chosen sisters. Anything else, we can’t know. And I won’t lose what I have now for anything in the past.”

“You wouldn’t lose me,” he said quietly.

“But I might lose myself,” she replied, her fingers brushing his, “if I started chasing shadows.”

He turned his hand over, thumb tracing along her knuckles. “Then we keep building forward.”

The Welcome Party

The Mayor’s estate shimmered under torchlight, lanterns and banners rippling in crimson and gold. Tables lined the garden paths, draped in silk and flowers, crystal bowls of preserved fruits and spiced water waiting untouched. Too precise, Lyra thought.

She stood beside Hassian, his hand resting lightly at her back—not possessive, just steady. His leathers were clean and polished, the pin over his heart catching the torchlight. Lyra wore a soft periwinkle dress, starlight beads shimmering, her own pin resting where it always belonged.

Subira moved gracefully through the crowd, her robes of teal and gray flowing with subtle authority. She paused to greet a few attendees with a soft word and a warm smile, putting them at ease. Admiration rippled through the gathering, but there was nothing forced in her movements—only quiet confidence.

“She’s the Order’s eyes,” Hassian murmured, “and sometimes its voice.”

Lyra’s stomach tightened. There was a subtle edge to Subira’s presence, a sense that nothing about this visit was casual.

The woman’s gaze settled on them.

“Hassian, Hunting Guild leader,” she said, voice soft but precise, the corners of her mouth lifted in a practiced, welcoming smile.

“Watcher Subira,” he replied with a slight bow of his head.

“And you must be Lyra. I’ve seen your name in so many of Jina’s papers,” Subira said, voice calm and kind.

Lyra hesitated, then offered a small smile. “I’ve helped where I could.”

“I’d like to speak with you tomorrow morning, if you’re willing. My room at the Inn will give us privacy.”

Lyra’s eyes flicked to Hassian, seeking grounding. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“All right,” she said at last, giving a small nod.

Subira inclined her head, still smiling, and moved on, attending to other guests.

Hassian took her hand, guiding her toward a quieter edge of the courtyard, under a vine-covered arch. “Walk with me,” he murmured, giving her space to breathe.

“I… I don’t like this,” she admitted, voice low, glancing around the crowd.

He slowed his steps to match hers. “I know,” he said softly. “I’m here.”

Lyra’s shoulders eased slightly, though her eyes still scanned the gathering.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he said, fingers brushing hers briefly. “You don’t owe anyone anything.”

A small exhale escaped her lips, the tension in her chest loosening.

“You don’t have to face anything alone anymore,” he added, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. “No matter what happens, we’ll still be together.”

Lyra tilted her head, letting a faint smile break through her unease. “We’ve met her… can we go home now?”

“Absolutely, baby,” Hassian replied, thumb brushing her knuckles. “Let’s go home.”

They moved toward the edge of the estate, side by side, the flickering torchlight fading behind them, leaving only the quiet of the path ahead.