Several seconds of silence stretched across the office.

  Vera glanced at Elaria, half-wondering if the woman was weighing whether incinerating Vanded where he stood would be worth setting Marrowfen back an entire Tenth Binding.

  Gard, finally seeming to remember where he was—and who he was standing between—cleared his throat quickly. “Ahem. Chapter-Master. I don’t think that’s an entirely appropriate question to ask at the moment…”

  The look he shot Vanded practically begged him to retract his head from the metaphorical guillotine he’d just leaned into.

  Vanded just let out a booming laugh. “Bahaha! What’s a little impropriety between friends? Little Serel’s a sharp one—no need to tiptoe around her.” He grinned down at the girl. “I told my daughter plenty when she wasn’t much older than you.”

  “What do you mean, Uncle Vanded?” Serel asked, genuine curiosity in her voice.

  The man’s face only brightened at her address.

  “I think that conversation can wait,” Vera said flatly, clamping her hands over Serel’s ears and pulling her close while giving Vanded a very clear warning look.

  She wasn’t actually too opposed to Serel learning about these things. She just had no idea when kids were supposed to learn about them. She’d known for as long as she could remember, which felt like a poor benchmark.

  Vanded’s grin widened at her. “Still strange, seeing the Ashborn Ascendant going full mama bear.”

  His gaze slid to Elaria, and he went quiet. He scratched a thick finger through his beard, expression shifting. “That said… maybe the lass could stand to grow a few more fingers before we cram all that into her head. Now that I think on it, my girl was probably a bit older.”

  Vera shifted slightly closer to Elaria, watching the woman regard him in silence for several long seconds.

  “Are you finished, Blazegrip?” Elaria eventually asked, her voice edged. “Know that I consider what Mournvale did to you yesterday to be an act of considerable charity given your words at the time.”

  Vanded grimaced faintly. “Aye. Figured you might.”

  Gard looked between them with some alarm. “…Do I want to ask what exactly was said?”

  “You do not,” Elaria replied.

  “I… see.”

  “The running of my mouth aside,” Vanded continued, snapping back to his more casual air, “are we liable to get an answer?” He tipped his head toward Vera and Elaria, then nodded at Serel. “The little one’s got both your blood running through her, yeah?”

  Elaria didn’t answer immediately. A faint frown creased her brow as her gaze moved to Vera, then down to Serel.

  Serel looked up at them, brow furrowing as she reached up and gently pulled Vera’s hands away from her ears. “Mommy, I want to hear.”

  Vera let her do it, but brushed her fingers through the girl’s hair, earning a soft huff. “First of all, remember what I told you?”

  “When?”

  “When we talked about Uncle Vanded’s habits.”

  “Oh!” Serel paused, frowning thoughtfully. “But I don’t have a coin…”

  “That’s fine. We’ll just pretend it would’ve landed on tails this time. You remember what that meant?”

  Serel narrowed her eyes, studying her. After a moment, she nodded solemnly and brought her hands up to cover her ears on her own.

  The others in the room stared.

  “Mournvale,” Elaria said slowly, “what did you teach her?”

  “I was trying to explain basic probability the other day,” Vera said. “Thought some fun, real-world examples might help.”

  “And this relates how?”

  “Well, since about half of what Vanded says is nonsense anyway, I figured there’s roughly a fifty percent chance each time he opens his mouth that she’s better off pretending she didn’t hear it. So—coin flip.”

  Serel dropped one hand just long enough to point at Vanded. “Tails means I shouldn’t listen to you!”

  Vera immediately raised both brows and guided the hand back over her ear. “There’s not much point covering your ears if you’re still listening.”

  “I’m not,” Serel insisted.

  “Sure you’re not.”

  Vanded looked at Serel like he’d just been spiritually betrayed, then turned to Vera. “Mournvale. There are lines even the most depraved souls do not cross.”

  “I’m not depraved,” Vera countered almost by instinct. Then, feeling slightly embarrassed, she shrugged. “You’re a parent. You know what it’s like to be willing to sell your soul for your kid. In my head, it’s either you or her.”

  The man shook his head.

  Vera glanced at Elaria, who was watching her with an unreadable expression.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I am simply… surprised,” Elaria said after a moment.

  “By what? Me teaching her probability?”

  “No.” The woman’s gaze lingered on Serel—softening just a fraction—before turning colder again as she focused on Vanded. “Returning to the matter at hand: yes. Serel carries both my blood and Mournvale’s. I trust this information will not be mishandled.”

  “You worried people’ll come after her?” Vanded asked.

  “In part. There is also the matter of Mournvale and I not yet having discussed certain details of the situation and how it should be handled.”

  Vera felt Serel stiffen just slightly beneath her hands. One small hand twitched away from her ear.

  She crouched slightly, resting a gentle hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Hey. It’s okay,” she whispered. “She doesn’t mean anything bad by that. She just has a lot on her plate, saving the world and all. You don’t have to worry, but we’ll talk about it all together later, alright? Can you be a bit patient for me?”

  Serel glanced up at her, hesitant, then lowered her head quietly.

  Vera smiled at her, though she also shot Elaria a small, pointed look.

  Elaria met it, held it for a heartbeat, then turned back to the others.

  “…If I may ask,” Gard said carefully, “how exactly…?” He lifted a hand, motioning vaguely between Serel, then Elaria and Vera.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “That does not concern you,” Elaria said.

  “No—of course not. My apologies. I spoke out of turn.”

  “Vera,” Vanded suddenly said.

  Elaria fell silent. Vera looked at him, surprised by the sudden shift in his tone.

  He was watching her with an unexpected gravity now, the easy humor stripped away. “Things are more complicated than they look, I gather. But are they good?”

  “Good?” Vera echoed, not entirely sure what he meant.

  “Safe.”

  She studied him, then let her gaze drift down to her daughter.

  He was asking if the girl was somehow at risk. Had he already figured out more than he was letting on? Maybe she’d underestimated him. For all his crudity and boisterousness, Vanded Blazegrip seemed to pay attention.

  Her expression softened, just a little. “I can’t say completely for sure yet,” she said honestly. “But for now? Yeah. Like you said—it’s complicated.”

  His eyes stayed on her, weighing her words. After a beat, he nodded once. “That’s enough for me.” His mouth pulled into a fierce, crooked grin. “If that ever changes, you give the word and Hollowstone Table will answer. I’ll bleed and burn if all of Marrowfen wouldn’t.”

  “That’s… good to know,” Vera said.

  “Can I ask one thing for clarity, though?”

  “Sure.”

  “The Duelmistress and the Slayer. Despite appearances—never an item, yeah?”

  Vera paused, brow knitting. What did he—?

  Before she could respond, Elaria spoke. “No.”

  Vanded glanced at her, then back to Vera.

  Oh. Of course.

  He was asking if she and Elaria were together. One of Elaria’s titles was ‘Duelmistress of the Ember Courts,’ and Vera had ‘Slayer of Tribulations.’ Vanded would have known them both for years, and for all his bluster and teasing, he likely would’ve had an idea if there had ever been something between them. And if he suspected there was something unusual about Serel—which he’d already noticed the first time he saw the girl—then it wouldn’t be too surprising if he might assume there was something equally unusual about the circumstances of her existence.

  But at least this time, he’d had the sense not to say it outright in front of Serel.

  “Then I’ve got my questions answered.” Vanded’s demeanor eased as he crossed his arms, hands gripping the opposite armored biceps. “Unless either of you feel like sharing what you got up to last night? Not prying into a lady’s business, but rumors of the Flamebearer showing up in Marrowfen on a dragon are already sparking in the taverns. Figure I could help smooth a few of those.”

  “We ate pancakes,” Elaria said evenly.

  Vanded seemed to stall briefly, giving her a long look as if not expecting an honest answer. “Pancakes?”

  Vera stared at her as well.

  “It is the only dish Mournvale can prepare reliably without help,” Elaria continued. “You may share that detail with whomever you wish. Nothing else.”

  Gard’s expression tightened, as if dearly hoping the man wouldn’t.

  Vera nearly choked. “Hey—wait a second—”

  Vanded looked at her with an alarming amount of disappointment. “You expect the lass to grow up fierce and strong on just that? Aren’t you feeding her any meat?”

  “It’s not—I don’t—” Vera cut herself off, scowling. “You know I have a butler, right? She’s not starving.”

  “There’s nothing as filling and nutritious as a dish made with a parent’s own hand and heart!”

  She barely stopped herself from sighing.

  She honestly couldn’t tell anymore whether he was deliberately jerking her around or being completely serious. The longer she spent around the man, the harder it was to tell where that line actually sat with him.

  “Are you saying you’re a master chef, then?” she eventually muttered.

  He laughed, chest rising with the sound. “I’m no slouch.”

  Vera pointed at Elaria. “Then what about her? She’s not—” She stopped short as Elaria’s gaze slid to her, her hand dropping mid-gesture.

  Actually, now that she thought about it, hadn’t it come up somewhere in Elaria’s history that she cooked as a hobby? Given her game level, it was entirely possible she was genuinely skilled.

  And yesterday, Vera had fed her half-experimental pancakes while openly admitting they were about the only thing she knew how to make properly.

  She went quiet for a few seconds, then lowered her hands to Serel, gently lifting the girl’s hands away from her ears. “Serel,” she said, “you don’t mind if all I can ever make you are pancakes, right? You’d eat them even if that was all I cooked for the rest of your life?”

  Serel glanced up at her, then at the others in the room.

  She seemed to seriously consider her answer.

  “Say, ‘Yes, Mommy, you’re the best,’” Vera whispered.

  “…Yes, Mommy, you’re the best!”

  Vera smiled at the girl’s response and straightened. “There you have it.”

  She pointedly ignored the look Elaria was giving her.

  “Rookie mistake, lassie,” Vanded rumbled, leaning slightly toward Serel. “When your mommy’s backed into a corner like that, that’s when you take your chance. You’ve got to make your demands.”

  “Demands?” Serel asked, tilting her head. “Like what?”

  “Like more pancakes,” Vanded said. “Or sweets. Or gifts.”

  Serel’s eyes widened, as though an entirely new concept had just been introduced to her.

  Vera glared at him.

  “Chapter-Master…” Gard spoke in a low tone. “Perhaps we shouldn’t be teaching the girl how to exploit leverage.”

  “Bah. I wouldn’t be much of an uncle if I didn’t teach her these things. I’m willing to take a bit of heat for the little one.”

  Gard cast a wary look at Vera. “It’s not your health I’m concerned for, but the Chapter’s dueling hall. It’s still recovering from your last ‘spar.’”

  “Serel,” Vera said, not taking her eyes off Vanded, “you understand this is another one of the things you’re supposed to ignore, right?”

  Serel watched Vanded. The large man winked at her.

  She turned her head up at Vera. “Mmm. I do.”

  Vera looked down at her.

  …Her daughter didn’t just lie to her, did she?

  She didn’t. Right?

  Before she could dwell on that thought, a familiar sensation brushed the edge of her awareness.

  Vera turned, faint furrow forming as she scanned the office, then shifted her gaze to Vanded. The man’s eyes had drifted to the floorboards, and as they moved back up to her, a quiet breath of amusement left him.

  He turned to Elaria. “Leaving the fun aside, Valecrest—what brings you to Marrowfen while the fronts are as jittery as they are? Other than whatever lashing it looked like you had saved up for Mournvale yesterday, I’m guessing there’s official business to attend to. Might as well get that out of the way.”

  Elaria’s expression changed subtly, perhaps caught off guard by the abrupt change in subject. She glanced briefly at Vera, then back to Vanded and Gard. “There is. The Covenant requires a full account of the current situation in Marrowfen, as well as the precise circumstances that led to a Silent Lord’s resurgence here.”

  “And the Flamebearer herself headed over to get it? Funny world we’ve got.” Vanded chuckled. “Still, you’re in luck.” He clapped a heavy hand on his Vice-Master’s shoulder. “This one’s got most of the answers you’re looking for.”

  Gard frowned slightly, but he smoothed his sleeves as Elaria focused on him. “I will answer whatever questions you may have to the best of my ability, Lady Valecrest.”

  Vera took Serel’s hand in hers and gently drew the girl a step back with her, lowering her voice. “This is going to be one of those boring adult talks that drags on forever. While your mama’s dealing with all that, how do you feel about joining me on a much more interesting adventure?”

  Serel’s eyes lit up. “What kind of adventure?”

  “You’ll see.” Vera leaned closer. “It’s a surprise.”

  Serel thought for only a moment, looking toward Elaria before nodding. “Mmm. Okay. But I want to tell Mama about it later.”

  “Sure.”

  Elaria paused in her conversation with Gard and turned back to Vera. “You’re leaving?”

  “Yeah.” Vera tipped her head toward Vanded. “I asked him to introduce me and Serel to one of his acquaintances. They just arrived.”

  That earlier pull at the edge of her awareness was the confirmation she’d been waiting for.

  Elaria studied her for several seconds.

  “They’ll be fine,” Vanded said lightly. “Worst they’ll run into are a few Splitjaw Cryptlings. Maybe some Veil-Tethered Phages.”

  Elaria’s head snapped toward him, then back to Vera. “The worst?”

  Vera exhaled through her nose. “Ignore him. Serel will be safe with me. I think this person might be able to give us some answers, which is why I wanted Serel with me. But I wouldn’t put her in danger.”

  Judging by Elaria’s expression, that reassurance didn’t go very far.

  It struck Vera then how much power she was almost implicitly handing the woman over Serel’s movements when she hadn’t even confirmed if Elaria wanted to be properly involved in the girl’s future. Still, she supposed that, as long as Elaria had at least agreed not to push Serel away, she deserved some say.

  “I still wish to hear about your encounter with the Silent Lord,” Elaria eventually said, fixing Vera with a final look.

  Vera blinked, somewhat surprised by the assent. “Sure. I’ll tell you what I know after we get back.”

  “Ensure that you do.” Elaria inclined her head, then looked down at Serel. “Do not allow your mother to pull you into anything reckless.”

  Serel shook her head solemnly. “I won’t. Bye, Mama!”

  “Goodbye.”

  Vera pretended like she hadn’t heard that as she said her farewells to Vanded and Gard before leading Serel out of the office.

  Once in the corridor, she let her instincts guide her. They moved through the Chapter’s halls, descending steadily into older sections where the air grew colder and heavier. Wood and newer stone gave way to marrowstone and sigil-carved bone, pale torches flaring to life along spiraling stairs as they descended deeper beneath Hollowstone Table.

  Eventually, they reached the place her senses had been drawing them toward.

  It was a broad chamber carved almost entirely from bone, its surfaces smoothed by age and worked with countless sigils. Many were related to House Hollow. A massive door was set into the far wall, its surface layered with worn carvings.

  Vera’s gaze fixed on it.

  She hadn’t known this place existed in the game, but Vanded had told her a lot after she’d expressed interest in the sealed portion of the Marrowvault supposedly only accessible through this place.

  The doors started shuffling open with a resonant grinding. Beyond them, shadows stirred as veins of pale silver and gray bled together into a figure half-formed from light and bone fragments. Chains hung from its limbs along with tattered cloths, and where a face should have been was only a hollow glow.

  The figure looked at Vera and Serel.

  “Hollow’s Chosen,” the Bound Witness said. “Welcome. I am sorry that our meeting was so delayed. Come, I will guide you into the vault.”