“I’m with Evan on this one,” Vargas interjected, “I don’t know how the hell it happened, but I’m almost certain Nico doesn’t hate him.”

“It’s because I’m just that endearing,” I said with a laugh, “All it took was a single night of watching me make a drunken fool of myself to win him over.”

“Anyway, forget about Nico,” Vargas continued, waving a hand dismissively, “The highlight of the morning was after all that. You guys missed Evan calling Harlow a dickless son of a bitch and living to tell the tale.”

Andrian choked out a short laugh that he quickly suppressed. He shook his head at me as if I’d been reckless, but I didn’t get the impression he disapproved.

“Oh yeah,” Vargas added, “I forgot to ask you earlier. What did Harlow want with you anyway?”

“He just asked about why they were after me," I explained, "As far as that part goes, he was surprisingly reasonable. But at the same time, he also called me stupid, accused me of being prejudiced, then ranted about humans and threatened me a bit. I’ll admit I let my temper get the best of me there. 'Dickless son of a bitch' was one of the nicer things I called him, actually,” I added sheepishly.

Falyn raised an eyebrow at my explanation, “And he didn’t retaliate?”

“Fucker looked like he was amused by the whole thing,” Vargas supplied.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Harlow look amused before,” Andrian commented with a smirk, “He’s a miserable asshole at the best of times. But it sounds to me like he was messing with you.”

“Now I really regret not hitting him,” I lamented, “Not for lack of trying.”

“Wait, you tried to hit him?” Vargas asked, looking delighted by the prospect.

“Tried and failed,” I admitted, “Upon reflection, I imagine I could have handled the whole situation with a bit more grace. I let him get under my skin.”

“Well, I can’t say I blame you,” Falyn said with sympathy in his eyes, “I’ve wanted to hit him on more than one occasion myself. But that makes me even more convinced you need to be careful. I’ve learned the hard way that most of the wolves are arrogant, antagonistic, self righteous jerks, just like Harlow. But what you saw in the slums is proof that they don’t actually hate all humans, no matter what they might claim. Feeding all those people was an act of benevolence, not hatred. Who they really hate are the ones who started the war, men like my father and the Second Prince, or the soldiers who committed endless atrocities and called it war. Unfortunately, they don’t seem to differentiate between them and us.”

What Falyn was saying made sense, but there was still a naive part of me that felt it was unfair. The knights who served in the Royal Army were all nobles, and I had nothing to do with them. The Knights of the Golden Palace had never even seen the battlefield.

“The wolves made up most of the main force that fought on the Vraynian war front,” Vargas added, “Their territory's the farthest from you guys and they’d never had any direct dealings with you, so there wasn’t any conflict of interest. It was less personal for them, just like fighting monsters–”

“And that’s the problem,” Andrian interjected, “They don’t see humans as people. In their eyes, the humans are just like the monsters. It’s a side effect of war. To be fair, when’s the last time any of us thought of monsters as people?”

“Well, perhaps that’s why Harlow looked amused,” Falyn concluded thoughtfully, “because Evan didn’t conform to his expectations of a human.”

“Then why does he still have it out for you?” Andrian questioned, sounding indignant, “You’ve done more than enough to prove you’re different.”

“I’m pretty sure Harlow just doesn’t like me,” Falyn replied thoughtfully, seemingly unbothered by the idea. He shrugged and added, “I don’t like him much either.”

That comment seemed to derail Andrian’s impending anger. I found it amusing that Andrian cared more about how the wolves treated Falyn than Falyn did. It was sweet.

“Nobody likes Harlow,” Vargas added, with more than a little snark in his tone, “Even the wolves only put up with him.”

“Actually, that’s not entirely true,” Andrian contradicted, surprising all of us, “He gets along well enough with the other generals. Honestly, I didn’t mind him before he started making things hard for Falyn. He’s a miserable asshole, yes, but he’s not a bad person. And the wolves are wary of him, but they idolize him. He’s a capable commander and an excellent strategist.”

“He’s not bad to look at either,” I blurted out without thinking. I felt the tips of my ears heat up and quickly amended, “Objectively speaking, that is. Too bad he ruins it whenever he opens his mouth.”

Falyn and Andrian didn’t question my unnecessary comment, but Vargas looked at me with a smirk that told me he hadn’t missed my slip. Thankfully, he didn’t feel the urge to call me on it.

The rest of our journey through Vrayna passed quickly. During the daytime, I generally stuck close to Falyn, avoiding both the Palace knights and the wolves. In the evenings, I always seemed to find myself at a fire on the outskirts of camp with Vargas and the beastladies I had met on the first night.

To my surprise, Nico joined us more often than not as well. Falyn’s warning to be careful of him lingered in my mind, but it seemed that it wasn't necessary. Though I couldn’t quite figure him out, there were no signs of him having malicious intent. Quite the contrary, the more we interacted, the more at ease I felt in his company.

It turned out that Vargas knew the three beastladies from his time in the east. The four of them had worked together on several scouting missions in the wildlands a couple years back, and the beastladies praised his cooking skills to no end. It seemed like such a contradiction that the foul-mouthed Vargas was also a capable chef. However, when I asked for proof, he flat out refused to indulge my request, arguing that it wasn't his job right now.

As they explained it, the beast army accommodated mates who wanted to serve together, assuming their skill sets complemented each other. Mara was a frontline fighter who favored her animal form in battle, while Juniper was a support shaman who specialized in healing. So, not only did they complement each other, they were also a formidable pair.

Jaslynn, on the other hand, was a former ranger with remarkable survival skills. She could hunt and forage with ease, was an expert with a bow, and could build a fire in the middle of a rainstorm. Since beastman scouting groups were composed of three units of three, she naturally joined her sister as the third member of their team.

Nico was a fighter like Mara and had trained under her from a young age. When he was still in the east, he had been part of a different unit, one focused on village defense, rather than scouting. Although he spoke freely about his experiences with the monsters, he carefully avoided talking about his time on the Vraynian front, as if worried it might upset me. I wouldn't have minded, but I appreciated the consideration.

Despite their past encounters, Vargas and Nico got along better than I expected. Vargas didn’t seem to hold any grudges about Nico’s part in the conflict between Falyn and Jerran, while Nico seemed to have forgotten the incident all together.

Each night, once they had a few drinks in them, the beastladies would regale me with tales of their adventures and brushes with death on the eastern front. The first mission that Vargas had joined them on had been a moon cycle long expedition that only half their group survived. After he saved their lives in a battle against a monster species they called nightwalkers, the beastladies adopted Vargas as their honorary son and doted on him accordingly.

Whether it was Vargas or her sister’s son, Nico, Mara was like a mother hen, fussing over them constantly. Both bore it with a tolerant fondness, but I could tell that they secretly enjoyed her motherly affection.

It only took a few nights for that affection to be extended to me as well. Once I explained my situation and they learned I could never see my mother again, the beastladies informed me that I was adopted too.

I wasn't ungrateful for their unexpected care, but I felt incredibly guilty accepting it. It made me think too hard about my own mother, who was heartbroken when I left and would be even more heartbroken after the other knights returned. I wished desperately that things could have ended differently.

But despite the lingering guilt, getting to know such unique people, who were nothing like my kin, gave me hope for the future. Just like when I first met Elantro, I felt a renewed sense of self, free from the need to hide who I was. I could speak and act as I pleased, no longer bound by the rigid decorum my kin clung to so tightly. It was a good feeling.