On the way back, she kept her eyes fixed ahead. She had shut herself away in silence, lost in thought.

So much had happened on this mission.

First, the horror by the river. Then the moment she had shared with Valir in the small kitchen, speaking in low voices in the dark, close enough to make her heart uneasy. And he had said he had been paying attention to her. To the way she acted. To the way she held herself together.

His words had unsettled her so much that she had become defensive.

“You don’t know me,” she had blurted out. Of all the things she could have said, she had told him that he didn’t know her.

Seriously? Of course he doesn’t know me. Do I even want him to know me? Why did I say that?

She bit her lip as she made her way toward Alfry’s house.

She had been rude. She was certain she should not have spoken to him that way.

Well done, Lyra... she thought.

And yet today, he had been the same Valir again. The faint humor. The discreet attention. It was all there. And that made her feel even more uncomfortable.

She had not arranged anything with Alfry. Not truly. She had only wanted to run away.

Standing outside the door, she half-expected her red-haired friend not to be home. But before she could turn to leave, the door opened with a soft click.

“Lyra? You’re back?” Alfry stood in the doorway, surprised.

“Yes. Just now.” Lyra smiled awkwardly.

“Are you all right?” She looked a little worried.

“I’m... not sure.” She lifted her shoulders. “Were you leaving?”

“No... I just heard the garden door and came out... Do you want to come inside for some warm tea?” she asked, smiling warmly.

“That sounds good...”

The two women entered Alfry’s small, bright kitchen. After Alfry served hot tea in two white porcelain cups and took a few buttery biscuits out of a tin, she sat with Lyra at the table.

“So?” she asked, chewing one of the biscuits.

“What?”

“What happened?” She gestured with her hands for Lyra to start the story.

“Nothing happened...”

“Ah! No! Don’t tell me nothing happened. First of all, you’re pale as a ghost,” Alfry replied, her eyes wide.

“Hmm...” For a moment, Lyra thought she should not have come. She took a deep breath.

“I was rude to Valir...” she grimaced.

“To Valir?” Alfry looked as if she could not believe it.

“Yes...”

“I find it very hard to believe that you, of all people, were rude... but tell me. Why? What happened?”

Lyra took another deep breath.

“I can’t tell you everything...” She hesitated only for a moment. “But something happened on the mission. He pressured me to say what I saw... and, well... I acted badly...” She looked down at her fingers, twisting them together to release some of her embarrassment.

Alfry let out a quiet laugh and leaned back in her chair.

“I would have liked to see that...”

Lyra looked at her, pressing her lips together.

“All right. Sorry. But you really shouldn’t worry about that,” Alfry said, leaning back in her chair.

“I shouldn’t?” Lyra played with the handle of her cup, looking down at the reddish-brown tea steaming in it.

“We’re talking about Valir...”

“Well, yes! He is practically the man I work for and…”

“Yes... Lyra? I’m going to stop you right there. I’m sure that is the last thing he cares about.”

“How are you so sure?” Her eyes moved toward her friend.

Alfry rolled her eyes.

“Because I have eyes and I can see...” she said with a smile.

Lyra looked at her, confused.

“If only you would look up from the world of books and herbs you hide in, you would understand.” She rose from her chair to get a few more biscuits.

“Do you want to stay here tonight? You can go straight to the infirmary tomorrow.”

“Can I? I’m not sure I can go there today...” Lyra answered quietly.

“Of course!” Alfry laughed.

They stayed in the kitchen a while longer, with Alfry telling her the latest news from the Guild, before they both went to sleep.

Upstairs in her room, Lyra took a quick bath and changed. Alfry had kept the short-sleeved white shirt and gray shorts Lyra had been wearing when she was first found. For tonight, they would be fine.

She lay down on the same wooden bed, staring at the ceiling...

But sleep refused to come.

Morning found Lyra in the infirmary early. She had returned with the first light. She had taken down every bottle and herb from the shelves around her. Her notes were scattered across her desk. Which herb was used for what, and which bottles would be more practical. She wrote down effects and reactions. She tried everything to keep her mind busy.

She had left the infirmary window and door open. Today, even the air itself felt suffocating. At some point, she let out a breath and looked out through the doorway. Nothing had changed there. The Headquarters moved with its usual rhythm.

The problem was inside her.

In the unrest that would not leave her mind or her heart in peace.

The night before, she had once again failed to sleep properly. Aside from the nightmares that had stolen the few moments of sleep she did manage to get, the thought of him and everything she had discussed with Alfry had stuck in her mind.

“Because I have eyes and I can see... If you looked up from the books and herbs you bury yourself in all day, you would understand what I mean.”

That was what she had told her. And yes, Lyra understood what she meant.

But maybe she did not want to believe it.

Since that night by the river, his gaze had lingered on her a little longer than usual. Throughout the journey back, his attention on her had been almost too much, as if she were something fragile.

And at the cabin? He had admitted he had been paying attention to her.

It was as if he had been studying her movements, as if his eyes could read even her very thoughts.

“And now you’re thinking about him again, Lyra...” she thought, shaking her head slightly.

She stood and looked out the window with a sigh. She needed some air.

But Valir was there.

In the courtyard.

He was talking with two children. They must have been around thirteen, holding swords in their hands, and happily asking him to teach them. Something about his relaxed posture and his easy laugh made her gaze linger on him.

Then, as if he had sensed it, he turned his eyes up toward the window.

He saw her.

Lyra swallowed the urge to snap the curtain shut and turn the other way. She smiled politely, greeted him with a small wave, and returned to her desk.

She sank into her chair, burying her face in her hands.

She took a deep breath.

The familiar scent of herbs, clean cloth, and alcohol gave her something steady to gather her thoughts around again.

Get a grip, Lyra!

The rest of the morning passed with small tasks, two brief visits for bandages, and one longer one for a young knight who had somehow managed to cut his hand open on a perfectly peaceful day inside the Headquarters.

It was a little after noon when Alina appeared at her door. She stepped inside, holding two small bundles of bandages and herbs in her arms.

“I brought you the new supplies from the storeroom before someone forgets them on the wrong shelf again.”

Lyra lifted her gaze and smiled a little.

“I see you’ve kept yourself busy today,” Alina said, setting the things down beside the desk.

“It was necessary...” Lyra said, pulling the bundles toward her and opening them quickly to see what she had brought.

“Necessary, hm?” Alina remained standing for a moment, observing the room, the opened bottles, the herbs, the half-finished notes.

“You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

Lyra did not answer immediately.

Alina tilted her head slightly.

“I knew it.”

Lyra let out a quiet sigh.

“I didn’t have time.”

“You will now. Come on.”

Lyra turned toward the open notebook, the herbs, the strips of cloth she had left in the middle of everything.

“I can’t leave. I still have work.”

Alina crossed her arms.

“I didn’t say we were leaving the Headquarters to go stroll through the market. We’re going down to the kitchen.”

Lyra looked at her for a moment.

Alina raised an eyebrow.

“You are going to eat. And then you can come back here and continue pretending you can function on herbs and stubbornness alone.”

A small, tired smile touched Lyra’s lips.

“You’re very annoying.”

“And yet you insist on liking me.”

Lyra smiled, finally closed the notebook in front of her, and stood up. In the months she had been there, she had grown very close to Alfry and Alina. Close enough to know that when Alina raised her brows like that, she did not easily take no for an answer.

“All right. But only for a little while.”

“That was my plan anyway.”

The two young women went down to the kitchen. The rich smell of hot soup and freshly baked bread filled the room.

The Headquarters kitchen was warm, filled with low noises and the comfort of the fire. There were not many people there at that hour. Only two women were cleaning utensils in the back, and a young assistant was carrying wood beside the hearth.

Alina took two bowls and brought them to the table by the window, while Lyra sat across from her, allowing her body to relax, even slightly, for the first time that day.

For a few minutes, they ate quietly. The warmth of the soup moved slowly through her, and Lyra realized how hungry she was only once she actually began eating.

Alina was the first to speak.

“You missed a few things while you were gone.”

Lyra lifted her eyes.

It was clear that whatever had happened had bothered and troubled Alina quite a bit.

“That bad?”

“Depends on how much you like witches.”

Lyra leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table.

“What do you mean?”

Alina set her spoon down and leaned in a little.

“Seris, the head of Veiranthes, arrived at the Headquarters while you were away.”

Lyra frowned.

That did not sound good.

Alina let out a low breath.

“From the moment she set foot here, it was as if she stirred everything up. She didn’t exactly do anything specific, not in front of me at least, but she gives me this feeling that she knows more than she says and enjoys far too much being the only one who knows it.”

Lyra rested her spoon inside the bowl and stayed silent for a moment.

Before she could ask anything else, the kitchen door opened. Valir stepped inside quietly, as he always tended to move.

Even so, he drew attention immediately.

His presence alone was enough to still the kitchen. The Grand Master did not usually come down there. He was not wearing his official uniform. After the morning training, he was still in his black shirt and black vest. His hair was still tousled from sparring and the wind.

The moment she saw him, she tensed automatically, without meaning to.

He cast a glance around the room, as if looking for something. When his gaze met hers, it rested on her before moving to Alina. It was so brief it could easily have gone unnoticed.

“Alina. Lyra.”

“Sir,” Alina said in her usual tone.

Lyra only nodded.

Then he moved toward the counter. He took one of the small bread rolls that had just come out of the wood oven and, without stopping to make conversation, left the kitchen again almost as silently as he had entered.

Only then did Lyra realize she had unconsciously tightened her fingers around her spoon again.

Alina was already looking at her.

“What?” Lyra said at once, far too quickly.

Alina raised one eyebrow.

“That was strange.”

“What was strange?” Lyra tried to sound indifferent, but she set her spoon down more sharply than she meant to.

Alina smiled slowly, with that annoyingly calm look of someone who had already seen enough.

“Of course. Not strange at all,” she said, her eyes flicking toward Lyra’s spoon.

Lyra lowered her gaze to her bowl.

“It’s nothing.”

Alina watched her a little longer, but did not insist. She only pushed the bread a little closer to her.

“Fine. Eat first. Then you can deny whatever you want.”

Lyra could not hold back a small breath that sounded almost like a laugh.

After that, the afternoon passed more quietly. The conversation moved elsewhere, to small tasks around the Headquarters, to something that had broken in the storeroom of the Cathedral, to a knight who had somehow managed to fall asleep standing outside the training hall.

But the tension did not leave.

Valir’s brief appearance had left behind a small, inexplicable feeling that Lyra no longer knew how to ignore.

Night came slowly but quietly.

By the time the corridors emptied and most of the footsteps had faded, Lyra had returned once again to the infirmary. The lamp on the wall burned low, painting the room with warm golden light and soft shadows.

Outside, the Headquarters had sunk into its familiar nighttime stillness.

The infirmary looked smaller at night.

Her large wooden desk stood near the window, now dark, with the lamp illuminating only what it touched.

Lyra sat behind her desk, bent over her open notebook. In one hand, she held a small bundle of dried leaves. With the other, she absentmindedly sorted notes that did not truly need to be put in order tonight.

Her sleeves were pushed up a little above her wrists, and a thin strand of hair had come loose, falling beside her face without her noticing.

She did not hear the first knock at the door.

Only when it came a second time did it manage to pull her from her thoughts.

“Come in,” she said, wondering who would be coming to the infirmary at this hour.

“Do you have a moment?”

Valir stood in the doorway.

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