Cael summoned her before midday.

She came without pause, boots barely making a sound.
He was leaning against the desk when she entered,
one hand resting casually on the hilt of a dagger he wasn’t using.

His smile was easy, almost warm- the kind you only realize is a mistake when it’s too late.

He kept it there, not because she needed comfort,
but because people lowered their guard around kindness.

“How’s everything been?”

“Fine.”

“No trouble settling in?”

“No.”

Her answers were quick, flat, and absolute.

Cael’s smile didn’t change.
It was poison to anyone foolish enough to trust it.

“I thought we’d go into town.” He said,

She nodded once. No questions.

---

The carriage rattled through the gates.
Stripes of light crossed her face and vanished.

“Nothing you miss?”

“No.”

“Not family. Not friends?”

“No.”

What was a family? 

That was her first thought after this.
The lack of hesitation was more telling than any story.

Cael studied her reflection in the window.
She sat still, shoulders straight, hands resting on her lap,
like she’d measured the exact amount of space she was allowed to take.

They reached the town within an hour.

---

The market was loud. Smoke from a cook's fire clung to the air,
mixed with bread, meat, and the bite of hot iron from the blacksmith.

She looked, but not for long.
She had never seen so many people in one place without an order binding them together.

Cloth. Fruit. Accessories.
At a vendor’s cart, rows of candied apples shone under the sun.

“Ever had one?” Cael asked.

“No.”

He studied her for a moment, then turned to the vendor.
Coins changed hands.
He bought two and handed one to her.

She bit in without looking at him, the sugar shell cracking loud.

“What if I told you it was poisoned?” he asked, his smile measured,
as if testing whether she was worth the answer.

She swallowed without hesitation.

“Then it’s already done.”

The words landed without fear, without curiosity.
Cael’s grip on the stick tightened, a quiet confirmation of something he’d suspected all along.

---

They turned into a smaller street. The crowd thinned.

A young woman outside the fruit shop looked up.
It was Mariel.

“Anastia? What are you doing here?” A hint of smile touched her lips, unsure whether it should stay.

Cael glanced at Anastia, putting in polite charm as he asked,

"Friend of yours?”

“No,” she said.

Mariel looked a little hurt.
Her eyes flicking away for a moment before she forces them back to meet Anastia's.

“I work at the estate.
Uh, we met in the courtyard. I was sweeping.. I said hello..”

Anastia was silent for a moment, as if deciding whether to acknowledge it.

“Yes. I remember.”

Mariel’s face softened, but there was still a trace of disappointment.

“I just came to get fruits for the estate. I should get going.”

She gave Anastia one last small smile before leaving.

Cael’s eyes followed her.
He didn’t miss the lack of any warmth in Anastia’s reply.

---

Near the edge of the square, Cael stopped in front of a small fountain.

“I just remembered something. Stand here until I come back,” he said.

She didn’t ask why.
She stepped onto the stone edge and waited.

The market moved around her- calls of traders, clink of coin, the smell of roasted meat.

A small boy darted past her, chasing something in his hand, then caught his foot on a loose stone.
He went down hard, palms scraping stone. His cry tore through the square.

Heads turned.

Anastia looked straight at him.
She didn’t move.

The boy sobbed, clutching his knee. A vendor glanced between them, eyebrows drawn-
she was the closest, and still she stood there.

She tilted her head slightly, studying the tears on his face.

Why is he crying? 

The thought was quiet, almost curious. She wasn't mocking, just puzzled.

It’s just a scrape.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she tried to remember the last time she’d cried. 

She couldn’t.

Before someone could help the child, a shadow fell across him.

Cael knelt beside him, his smile warm, voice low and reassuring. 

“Easy there, lad. Let’s see.”

He checked the scrape, tore a strip from a cloth in his pocket, and wrapped it neat.
The mother arrived, breathless, gathering the boy up. She thanked him and left with a polite smile.

People still looked at Anastia- a silent question in their eyes.

Whispers passed between vendors. A woman shook her head.
The weight of their stares pressed like heat on her skin, but she felt nothing at all.

She met their eyes briefly, saw nothing worth keeping, and looked away.

When Cael straightened, his gaze swept over the crowd, then to her.
She was exactly where he’d left her, posture perfect.

For a heartbeat, his smile didn’t reach his eyes. 

He had seen. 
Seen enough now.

“Good,” he said at last, his tone smooth again. 

“You follow instructions well.”

The stones moved under their feet as they walked. 
Somewhere in the turn of his gaze,
the weight of a decision already made settled more firmly in his mind.

The shape of her training was clear now-
Every answer, every stillness, every silence was a blade waiting to be sharpened..