"Young Master Ancard!" the guard downstairs shouted. "You've finally returned!"

  "Kardo, I absolutely must tell you something," came a voice Elisa recognized all too well. "Today at the market, I encountered this mad woman selling wine..."

  "This way," Portilo gestured toward a side door. "That's the governor's son. You don't want to see him now," Portilo gestured toward a side door.

  The two slipped through the garden and reached the street. Portilo hailed a farm cart for her. "Don't come back here, neither you nor your mistress." Elisa stared at him blankly. "Don't worry," he said. "Daisy Clawyn is no longer his mistress, and neither are you."

  "Truly?" she asked.

  "Of course it's true," he replied. "That's a man's promise."

  "Mother," the boy tugged at his mother's rope-like hair. "I wanna play."

  "Shh!" The mother pressed her finger against the boy's lips. "Don't speak so loudly, and don't say anything unnecessary." She cast furtive glances at the dwarves enjoying their dinner, occasionally pointing at Walin and Toyef. "Look, Nate. That gentleman has a short sword, and Lord Toyef carries a dagger. They could kill us any moment, do you understand?" She shook her son. "First they'd kill me, then you; or perhaps you first, then me... or maybe—"

  "Kill us both at once." The boy made a face. "You've said that a hundred times, Mother."

  "Then you should behave, my sweet child." The mother glanced around nervously. "Just endure a little longer. Soon we'll return to Crivi and be free again..."

  "But I've been enduring long enough." He smirked mischievously. "I've been holding it since earlier."

  "Holding what?"

  "Pee!" With a laugh, the boy broke free from his mother's arms and darted away. "I need to pee!"

  "Wait! Nate! Wait!" The mother lunged forward, falling onto a soft patch of greenery. The boy ignored her calls, scrambling ahead. "Please, Nate," she called out hoarsely, "don't go far! Just to the riverbank! No further!"

  She couldn't tell if the child had nodded.

  The mother didn't rise. She remained sprawled on the ground, letting the grass brush against her weathered cheeks. She closed her eyes, hoping that when she opened them, her child would be standing before her.

  But he didn't appear.

  "Elisa?" Daisy Clawyn entered slowly, holding a candle. "Elisa, are you here?"

  Hearing her mistress's voice, the maid quickly wiped away her tears. "I'm here, my lady."

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  "You naughty girl," Lady Clawyn scolded, somewhat irritated. "Why didn't you tell me you'd returned?"

  Elisa offered a forced smile. "I didn't want to disturb you."

  Noticing the tear stains on Elisa's face and her torn dress, Daisy gasped. "What happened to you? Don't lie to me—a simple fall wouldn't leave you like this... Ah! I understand! That damned poet..."

  "No, my lady, it wasn't him!" The maid threw herself into Daisy's arms. "It's not what you think!"

  "Then who was it?" she demanded.

  "Ah..." Elisa realized her words had been poorly chosen. "I mean, it wasn't like that..." (Sorry, Great Poet.) "I never expected this to happen..."

  "He hurt you?" Daisy brushed the hair from Elisa's face, visibly furious. "What kind of poet is this? He spends day and night singing of knights' tales, yet lacks even a shred of chivalry himself!"

  "No... it wasn't Lucas's fault..." She buried her face in her mistress's chest, sobbing uncontrollably. "I can't explain... but please ask no more, I beg you."

  Daisy's expression softened. "Alright, I won't ask, dear. Never again." She stroked Elisa's hair gently. "I know these days have been difficult for all of us. Amy still hasn't awakened, and Cherry is about to give birth..." She sighed softly. "And there's been no word from the battlefield... I just want to know if Carl lives."

  "The master must still be alive," Elisa choked out. "He'll come back."

  "Thank you, dear." Daisy kissed her forehead. "One more thing troubles me," she said. "Did that man come again today? The governor's secretary..."

  "It's over!" The maid suddenly lifted her head, her tear-drenched lashes glistening. "Everything is over."

  "What do you mean? What's over?"

  "You need worry no more," she said. "Never again."

  In that moment, Daisy Clawyn seemed to grasp the full meaning and weight of those words. She embraced Elisa, tears of relief streaming down her face. "Truly?" she asked.

  "Of course it's true," Elisa said. "That's a—" she took a deep breath, "a woman's promise."

  "We already ate earlier," Jim Harad said, eyeing the cured beef and hiccupping. "But this beef is truly excellent." He swatted away Toyef Bilinski's reaching hand. "Worth a second helping."

  "Thanks to your provisions, Toyef," Walin Barklo Vaslov patted his round belly. "Otherwise we'd be stuck with that green broth all night."

  "That fish soup was quite good," Toyef said, tearing into the beef. "Though naturally, it can't compare to my wine." He twisted open a bottle, only to remember once again that it was empty.

  "Lord Walin thought it was dreadful," the brown-bearded dwarf laughed. "He said it's sewage."

  Toyef smiled. "He must be quite familiar with the flavor, then."

  The black-bearded dwarf ripped off a large chunk of beef in protest.

  "Wilton, you should eat more," Toyef said to Holar Peter Wilton, who sat off to the side. "Don't tell me you were scared off by the fish soup too?"

  "Not at all, Toyef," Wilton replied calmly. "As long as it sustains life, I'll eat it, however unpalatable."

  "I like your attitude!" the red-haired dwarf praised. "You and I get along splendidly, lad. I've often thought, if your axe had been used to slay enemies on battlefields rather than trees in forests, perhaps during the Battle of Brolinki, you could have helped Harowink repel the humans... Then we wouldn't be left with only Rovefen to scrape by in." He asked, "Where is your axe? Don't you always keep it with you?"

  Holar Peter Wilton's head snapped up. "I left it in the wagon," he said, feigning composure. "It's not needed at all times."

  "That's unfair, Toyef," Walin said. "That was ages ago. Back then, our dwarven lord wasn't the 'Shell-less Snail' Hovek Browal Harowink, but the 'One-Eyed Wolf King' Elis Browal Harowink. We lost because of their navy—human fleets blockaded all our ports and did as they pleased."