His mother’s grave was closer to the palace, only a ten-minute walk from Rae’s old rooms in the Shana’s palace. When Rae had chosen this spot, he hadn’t known he would soon be ousted and had chosen with convenience in mind. It was close enough that no matter what his duties might be, he could visit every day. 

The land there was relatively flat, overrun with wild grasses and flowers. The exact spot where Rae’s mother was laid to rest was at the edge of the clearing, shaded by a willow tree. Her stone had a thin layer of moss growing over it, and at its feet sprouted an abundance of little red flowers. 

“Here lies the Kaolin Shana, dearest mother, who died in childbirth aged 30. Nukaim, the second Shakje, a treasured son and brother. Always missed, never forgotten,”

Rae had long run out of tears to shed in this place, but it was nice to see the grave, with those words that he had once agonised over, gently embraced by pretty flowers. Mother would have found it beautiful. If Nukaim had lived, Rae would have played ball games with him in clearings like this. 

He stayed sitting in the grass next to the grave for some time. Listening to the rustle of the leaves, the flaps of wings. He only realised how long he had been daydreaming of the past when a quiet ringing sound broke him out of thoughts.

A small grey cat had padded over to the grave on silent paws. It looked at Rae with wide blue eyes, as if he was somewhere he didn’t belong.

“Greetings, kitty,” Rae said, in a voice low enough that even if someone was spying on him, they wouldn’t have heard. The cat made an indignant sound, that was neither a growl nor a mew, but soon enough came ambling over to press its head against Rae’s palm.

“Hello gorgeous, where have you come from?” 

It was normal for cats to be kept at the camp. They kept vermin and evil spirits from taking hold, which kept the disease under control, which was the line between a camp’s success or ruin. 

This one had shiny smooth fur and a full moon stomach, clearly a doted-on pet. And it was quite happy for Rae to dote on it, twisting its way around his legs and nuzzling his hands. How sweet, Rae thought, his mother would have liked this kitty.

Just as Rae was thinking of sneaking some food from the kitchen to feed his little buddy, he heard footsteps traversing the gravel path up from the palace.

 “Bell! Belly! Bell, come here!” a voice called.

Rae flinched at the sound of it and the cat grumpily mewed. That voice was familiar. If the cat knew it too, it didn’t react. Didn’t even glance toward the path until a gentle tapping sound rang out. Then the cat scampered off without so much as a farewell glance at Rae.

The grass was damp, and the afternoon breeze was turning into an evening chill. It was well past time Rae returned to the palace.

“Peace, friend,” 

Rae didn’t want to alarm the one on the path when he emerged from under the willow, so he said this on the way out. Behind the veil of leaves, holding the cat in his arms, was Ven Ashem.

“You-!” Rae startled at the sight of him, considering running off into the forest before gathering himself. 

Ven had startled too, earning a hiss from the cat as it tried to escape his grip. 

“Hey, hey,” he whispered to the creature, wincing in pain at the claws in his arm, “come now, don’t run off again,”

After a few moments, the creature settled, earning a scratch behind its ear. The sight reminded Rae of something unpleasant, of helpless terror and being laid bare, but he wasn’t going to lose his cool again.

“So it’s your cat?” Rae asked. The creature clearly trusted him, and he seemed quite familiar with its temperament. 

“No. My father gave my nieces some kittens a few years ago. Out of the litter, this one is the escape artist, so I’m often sent out to retrieve him,” Ven said, he eyed Rae for a moment, as if in thought, before putting the cat down and taking a cloth package out of a pocket.

It was full of scraps and bones from the kitchen, which the cat was quite grateful for. It would remain there for some time, cracking bones and licking up the juices.

When Ven’s eyes met Rae’s again, he felt an unfamiliar twisting in his stomach and indistinctly glanced around the clearing. His hand edged infinitesimally closer to the blade at his waist. 

“You don’t think I’m an assassin, do you? After everything that I’ve done to help you out?” Ven spoke jovially like Rae had made a jest, but there was a tension behind it. As if he was secretly nursing a wound.

“I’m sorry. I should thank you. My nerves just got the better of me,” 

Ven had saved him at the guest house and defended him against  Duke Ashem. Rae owed him two debts, it would be wrong to continue to distrust him after that.

But… if his intentions weren’t to kill Rae, what game could he possibly be playing? Was he a rebellious young master, just doing anything he could to enrage his father? Or was this all part of Duke Ashem’s plan, to have someone close to Rae, trusted, ready when the time to strike comes? 

“It’s alright,” Ven said with a glowing smile, “What are you doing out here anyway? Did the palace become too much for you?”

Rae glanced back, “I was visiting my mother’s grave,” 

Ven stepped forward and brushed the willow leaves aside with an astonished expression. 

“I had never known there was a grave here,” he said, confirming a suspicion Rae had been nursing since he arrived, “It doesn’t look like it’s been tended in… Would you like help clearing the weeds?”

Rae was shocked speechless at first. The knowledge that no one had visited Mother in… not even the Shak. Then the thought of an Ashem, on his knees, diligently tending to his mother’s resting place. His mouth moved, but it took some time for the words to come.

“It’s alright. The red flowers… they’re fitting, mother would like them,”

“You’re an odd one aren’t you?” Ven said, before walking closer to the grave. 

A sense of protectiveness came over Rae, and he stalked after him. 

“What are you-?”

Ven knelt by the headstone, squinted at the moss-covered text, bowed his head and muttered a prayer.

“My respects to the late Shana,” he said, after he had finished, “are- are you alright?”