The return to the inn was tread in silence. As the last yawns of sunlight died behind the hills, Leland’s thoughts were as muddled as the cloudy, grey sky.

Responsibility. What a coincidence Donovan would bring it up. Chewing slowly on his gums in thought, Leland reminisced on his last meeting with his father. He had also talked about responsibility- to his family, to the land. As an only son, his life was born with obligation for a legacy he had never suffered for, and as an only son he was also cherished to a fault. Hiding in trees to avoid chores, sneaking out at nights to run amuck with trouble, and fine tuning an indisputable charm to get away with it all- this was Leland’s life so far. Stuck in careless youth, without a worry in the world. At his age, however, the burden of carrying on where his father could no longer was beginning to grow closer. This was why he was sent away: to prove his maturity. Stealing a glance at Donovan, he couldn’t help feeling like he had a daunting gap to close.

When they finally arrived back and stabled their horses, Leland had long resolved to leave the night as is. However, as he made a beeline past the common room and took the first step up the stairs, he felt a light hand on his shoulder.

“Leland…”

His body freezing in place, he readied for his worst fears. Did he want to split ways from here on? Did he never want to see him again? Worse, would he be carried off to be punished by the Anin court? Donovan wasn’t the sort, was he?

“I’m sorry, Leland.”

The miasma of anxiety was gusted away in an instant, Leland’s mind blank. Realizing the apology, he turned around hurriedly.

“You shouldn’t be the one apologizing, your highness!”

“I was too quick to temper, I’m the one at fault. Please forgive me for my misconduct.” Staring at the determination in Don’s dark eyes as he spoke, Lee scarcely had the courage to disagree. However, the honesty in his regret, and the maturity it took to verbalize it so, laid Leland’s emotions of inferiority bare in his heart.

“No, no, you were right. I don’t have any discipline to speak of. Please, Prince Donovan, let’s leave it at that, hm?” I didn’t even have the guts to say sorry first. Yet, as he turned to ascend the stairs, he felt another touch on his arm.

“Fine, we both acted like children, today. I think we started things off on the wrong foot, so why don’t we try to end things on a good note?”

~

"Your meals will be ready shortly, your highness."

A bowl of fruit set before them, the son of the innkeeper wrung his hands in his rag and bowed before making way to the kitchens. Neither made a move to take any, nor to look up at the other. Whereas moments ago they were stumbling over each other in apologies, they now sheepishly wandered their gaze around the room, too awkward to know how to begin. Eventually, Leland gave in and cleared his throat.

"So what is our plan from here?"

Don’s brow furrowed though his shoulders relaxed without the burden of starting the conversation,”Don’t you think that boy was a bit suspicious?”

“The boy? You mean the one that led us through the orchard?”

Their food was delivered as they talked, billows of steam still spilling from the wooden bowls of pork porridge. A poached plum was nestled in each of the bowls, leaking rich red juice into the milky broth.

“Why did he lead us to the burnt trees and not the newly infected ones?” Donovan ate carefully, only occasionally cutting his spoon into the soft, spiced meat of the plum between bites of pork and oats.

“I think he was just your typical snotty teenager who had better things to do than babysit a couple of men, nothing too unusual of seasonal workers.” Leland, meanwhile, immediately dissected his fruit, stirring the entire soup together until it was stained a pale red. Each spoonful he ate had a precarious balance of each of the bowl’s components.

“Seasonal?”

Leland waved his spoon around as he talked,“Yes, more hands are needed during harvest, so larger orchards such as this one will spare a few coin for travelers or local vagrants looking for work. The younger ones don’t often have the best of attitudes, admittedly.”

“Leland, doesn’t that seem like a perfect opportunity for an ill intended stranger to take advantage?”

Leland held his spoon in his mouth as he took it to thought. Admittedly, he had already considered the possibility. For the sake of their perilous friendship so far, though, he thought it best not to accuse anyone from Anin without solid evidence. However, if Don had come to the same conclusion…

“Then it’s settled! We’ll return to the orchard first thing in the morning.”

Hearing ‘first thing in the morning’, Donovan felt a twinge of unease in his gut, but ultimately said nothing as he ate. They finished their meal without incident, though Leland left a puddle of uneaten porridge in his bowl. When inquired, he merely shrugged, “Ran out of plum and pork.”

With that and a quiet coin placed on the table, they called it a night at last.