The bespectacled man flushed when he realized someone had witnessed his moment of folly.He took Astra's outstreched hand, allowing her to pull him to his feet.

“Aah, you saw that?” smiling in an embarrassed manner, he adjusted his spectacles and reached down to dust off his robe and pick up the fallen tomes. “I apologize for the disturbance.”

Astra wordlessly helped him collect the books. Judging from the conspicuous empty spaces on the high shelf beside them, they must have fallen, taking the man on the ladder with them. After glancing at their spines, she shuffled them back into order and ascended the ladder herself. The silver-haired man, a little dumbfounded, watched in silence as she began slotting books back into place.

“That… I should be the one doing that,” he muttered, as if speaking to himself.

“It's fine. This much is easy.” Astra shook her head.

The man waited until she finished and came back down before belatedly offering Astra a handshake. “I apologize for that unseemly display, miss. I am Declan, the master of this fine establishment.”

Astra realized that this man was none other than the library master whom Aleron had called a ‘good man’, saying that he thought Astra would get along with him, and smiled with more warmth. “I’m Astraea. Are you hurt?”

“Ah, no…” Declan touched the spot on his head where the books had impacted, smiling ruefully. “It’s shameful for a librarian to admit this, but incidents like this happen often. I’m rather used to it by now.”

“I… see.” She didn’t think that made it much better. Spotting a small wagon full of more books behind him, which he must have been putting away, she added, “Would you like some help?”

“Oh, no! I couldn’t as a visitor to do that,” Declan hurried to say. “Were you looking for anything in particular, miss?”

She thought it over. “Do you have any books on herbal medicine?”

Nodding, Declan led her down several aisles before pointing. “You’ll find what you’re looking for on this shelf and the next one,” he told her. “If you would like to borrow anything, you may, so long as check with me first. Anything you take is not to leave the palace grounds."

Nodding, Astra bid the librarian farewell and wandered down the aisle alone. Soon she had an armful of books to study, stacked up on a nearby table.

After coming to Onaria, Astra had taken interest in herbal remedies. As an otherworldly traveler, it was heartbreaking to see the rise of illnesses in this world that had neither technology nor medical advancements. People died from the tiniest of injuries or the mildest of colds just because the right treatment was not available. Astra was far from a doctor – she had a vague idea of which illnesses probably could have been treated in a modern hospital, but she lacked the know-how to do anything about it. As a result, she had taken to researching field medicine and first aid from anyone who could teach her. The small tidbits of knowledge she had picked up came in handy on their travels many times. 

Having exhausted the possibilities of one shelf, Astra moved to the next aisle, only to spot a familiar figure. A small blond youth was curled against the end of the shelf, surrounded by stacks of tomes like he’d been building a giant fort of novels. “Conrad?”

The young soldier flinched, knocking over a stack beside him, and raised his arms instinctively before he realized who was talking to him. “Miss Astraea…!” hurriedly, he tried to hide his face, but it was too late. 

Astra had already seen the black eye, the split lip, the bruises on his cheek.

Her expression darkened. For Conrad, who was already on edge, the sudden change bordered on frightening, especially since he’d only known Astra to be gentle and polite. She dropped to her knees before him, reaching out. The young boy squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for a blow or a forceful inquiry, he wasn't sure which. 

There was a brief pause, and then he felt a gentle touch on his hair. Petting and stroking, a whisper of a touch until he untensed and his arms came down. A voice, turned soft from concern, sounded in his ear.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Are you alright?”

Conrad opened his eyes to find Astra carefully pushing his arms down so she could study the injuries on his face. She was frowning so much it almost seemed as though she was the one who was injured, not him. His chest tightened with a feeling he couldn’t explain, whether it was relief or shame.

“M-Miss Astraea.”

“Shush. Let me look at you.” Carefully, Astra examined his bruised cheek and eye, and the scrapes on his hands. “Your wrists are swelling, too,” she muttered, pushing his sleeve up to see better. Conrad stayed silent through all of it, his wide-eyed gaze locked onto her face.

When his senses returned he immediately flushed with shame. “Please let me go.” He tried to tug his wrists from her grasp, and she let him, only to duck her head under his arm and place it around her shoulders. “Miss Astraea?” he asked, subconsciously allowing her to help him stand, both of their books forgotten.

“Shh. Let’s get you to the infirmary,” she soothed, beginning to walk as an unresisting Conrad moved his feet to follow. Aleron had included the infirmary in his earlier tour – it was quite close to the training grounds. “Does it hurt to walk? Should I carry you?”

“I, that is,” Conrad began, stuttering before he lowered his gaze to his feet so she couldn’t see his face. “I think I can walk…”

“Alright.” Astra helped him into the hallway, making a mental note to return for her books later, and studiously ignored the looks they got from the servants and knights in the hallways as she guided a limping Conrad back towards the barracks.

As they passed the training grounds, they ran into someone who was on their way out – Liam, whose eyes grew wide as he spotted them.

“Conrad!” he exclaimed, moving to support Conrad’s other arm. “Did they get you again?”

Again?

Astra frowned, but held her tongue. Getting Conrad treated was the most important thing right now. “We were on our way to the infirmary,” she explained when the youth hung his head without saying anything.

“It’s this way,” Liam replied, tightening his grip.

There was a man around her age in the infirmary when they arrived, sorting through a pile of glass bottles filled with various powders and dried herbs. When Liam greeted him, he looked up, and for a moment Astra was taken aback.

A pair of startlingly bright green eyes, like jewels, were looking at her from beneath bangs that were as dark as her own hair. Since coming to Onaria, this was the first time she had met someone with the same hair colour as her.

“Rain, sorry about this, but could you patch up Conrad?” Liam asked as he and Astra settled the still-silent boy onto one of the nearby cots. “Rain’s our medic," he said to Astra, "though if you ask me, he’s wasted on the Castle Guard. He’s good enough to be the king’s personal healer, but he insists on sticking with our ragtag bunch.”

“That’s enough, Liam.” Rain spoke in a low tone as he picked up a roll of bandages and moved over to Conrad. Though he said not a word to Astra, he seemed to be stealing glances at her when he thought she wasn't looking.

His green eyes were burning fiercely, so much so that she wondered she had offended him somehow. When she furrowed her brows, Rain averted his gaze with a pinched expression. He seemed acutely aware that he was making her uneasy.

“Rain?” Liam asked, and the medic snapped out of their staring contest, his eyes moving back to Conrad before the storm behind them settled down, suddenly all business.

The healer clicked his tongue as he sat down beside the injured cadet. “Shirt off,” he ordered, and the blonde obediently removed his top to reveal more bruises lining his ribs and stomach, prompting a sympathetic wince from Liam at the sight. “They really got you good this time.”

“If I may ask,” Astra cut in, evidently completely unfazed by the sight of a shirtless Conrad, who didn’t seem to care if she was present, “Who exactly are ‘they’?” Closing the infirmary door, she leaned against it. “It doesn’t seem like this is the first time this has happened.”

The other two men exchanged glances, and when Conrad didn’t try to stop them, Liam explained, “It’s the Raven Knights."

Astra’s brows, which were already raised, climbed even higher. “His highness’s personal guard?”

“The Captain told you. Yes, them.” Liam pointed to the blond cadet, who was watching Rain as the healer wrapped a bandage around his arm. “They’re the ones responsible for making our adorable youngest like this.”

His tone was far too casual for Astra's liking. Not because it meant he didn't care about Conrad's tragic state, but because it signalled that this was a far more common occurrence than she'd first thought. “Is Aleron aware?”

It was a rhetorical question. The Aleron she knew would never let something like this slide. But at her inquiry, Conrad, who had been utterly silent up until this point, jerked his head up.

“Please don’t tell the Captain, Miss Astraea!” he begged, moving to get off the cot as if he planned to grab her and plead his case. Rain snapped at him to stay still.

Astra was taken aback by his vehemence. When she met Liam's gaze, understanding dawned, and the redhead nodded. “That’s right, little lady. Only Rain and I know, and that’s according to Conrad’s will.”

“But why?” Astra asked Conrad, who shook his head with gritted teeth, and she sighed. “No, don’t answer that. I think I know why.”

She remembered the conversation she’d had with Conrad when they first met. The cadet admired Aleron, tried to emulate him. Aleron was his hero and his role model. For a young boy like Conrad, it made sense that he wouldn’t want the object of his admirations to know about his greatest failing.

“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but this sort of behaviour doesn’t seem like something the Crown Prince would condone, either,” she ventured instead.

“You’re correct.” Rain’s voice was quiet. Now done bandaging Conrad’s wounds, he turned and began packing away his tools again. “His highness does not know of this, either.”

Probably because there was no way for the prince to know without Aleron eventually being told, too.

“Most of the Raven Knights are a decent sort. There’s just one or two in particular whose personalities are complete garbage,” Liam complained. “If they were reported, they’d be dismissed from their positions, but…”

She understood. Heaving a sigh, Astra sat down on Conrad’s opposite side.

The cadet, now thoroughly wrapped in white bandages, flinched. His head was buried in his knees, and he couldn’t find the courage to look up.

He was ashamed of himself.

Ever since Conrad and his sister had been saved by Captain Aleron, the older man had embodied everything that Conrad aspired to be. He had lost his parents in that fire, and seeking strength had become the pillar he had used to help him move past his grief. Such pursuits were for himself, but also for the sake of his much-younger sister, who was now in the care of their grandmother while Conrad went off to pursue strength and a career that could support them.

As someone who had lost so much, the youth's one desire was to obtain the skill needed to protect the family he had left.

But he was still nowhere near what he wanted to be.

Instead, he struggled in training, and was even being picked on by older knights without being able to defend himself. He couldn’t bear to return home in this state, didn’t have the face to stand before his sister and grandmother like this.

“I know I’m pathetic,” he mumbled into his knees. “And I know it's impossible. But I want to be able to handle this myself. I don't want to hide behind the Captain.”

Liam was his roommate, and Rain was responsible for attending to his wounds whenever he got beaten up, so Conrad had more or less come to terms with their knowing his pitiful situation.

However, Astraea was different. She was someone Captain acknowledged as a traveling companion, and she’d been kind enough to help him with his knifework. Anyone with eyes could see that Aleron thought highly of Astra, even if they hadn't seen the full extent of what she could do. If the Captain was too far off to approach, Astraea was a bridge, a midpoint that Conrad might be able to reach someday.

But having that same person discover his greatest weakness, and after only a day, Conrad wanted to die of shame. He wanted to dig himself a hole and crawl inside, never to come back out. To his increasing frustration, he started to cry. “Even if I can never reach the Captain’s level, even if it’s complete foolishness to even try…!”

“Who says it’s foolishness?”

A brusque voice interrupted him.

“Why is it foolish?”

If Astra had attempted to coddle or comfort, Conrad would have pushed it away, feeling even weaker for needing pity. Instead, she was so blunt that it was not amiss to call it scolding. As if she didn’t care about his reaction, her brisk voice continued on. “Why is it foolish to have a goal? Why is it impossible for you to grow stronger? If anyone dares to insult your dreams, put a fist in their face for spouting nonsense.”

“M-miss…”

The noirette conceded a bit when she heard Liam’s awkward voice. “Fine, maybe don’t resort to immediate violence,” she muttered, reaching for Conrad.

Astra hated bullying. Both she and Lexi had experienced their fair share growing up, and the experience had never really left them. Seeing a child like Conrad beaten to this state, both physically and mentally, was making her blood boil.

“What kind of heartless brutes would hit a child?” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else. “Don’t they have anything better to do?”

The blond had raised his head at some point during her tirade and was staring at her. His face was a mess, streaked with tears and snot. Clicking her tongue, Astra pulled a handkerchief from her pocket, wiping Conrad’s face for him with an odd sort of affection.

“My point is, you can get stronger. Much stronger,” she told him once his face was clean. Perhaps due to surprise, Conrad had also stopped crying. “It's not foolishness or impossible. Let me prove it to you.” Tucking the dirty handkerchief away without a hint of distaste, Astra lifted Conrad's chin, forcing the youth to look her in the eye. Despite her unrestrained actions, her expression was achingly gentle as she said, in a coaxing tone, "I know we just met, but trust me this once. Alright?"

Conrad looked at her. His eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, causing the noirette to soften slightly. She wiped a stray tear from his cheek and repeated, "Alright?"

The silence that followed was heavy. Astra had almost given up when a hoarse whisper, barely audible, reached her ears, a shaky breath brushing past her wrist. 

"...Alright."