Aves perked up at the thought of his sister-in-law leaving to quell the floating rumors about her. When his wife generously offered that she and Aves accompany her to the capital to speak with the Warlock, his mood soured greatly.

"But wife!" he protested, "I've no shoes to tread! As much as I would wish to join you, I fear my progress would be slow and painful... I'd only delay your arrival at the palace."

Before Fringilla had the chance to scold her husband, and point out that he might travel without ever putting a foot to the ground; Carduella decided to show him mercy. That, and she could do without his whining on the journey when there were far greater things on her mind.

"I will handle this myself," she announced, "Though it's been centuries since I last entered the city... I trust I can find the way well enough."

"Maybe a spell to assist you?" offered Fringilla, "To ensure the path leads where you intend to follow."

"Oh hush!" cried Carduella, "There's no need at all!"

The Witling Woman was adept at finding spells, but throughout the years had determined that the skill was inherent, and no longer chose to rely on magic to guide her. Believing the sense to navigate life came solely from within, she had developed a habit of getting herself completely lost, and refusing to admit it had anything to do with her lack of direction.

"I need only close my eyes and my feet will lead me to the Velvet Palace. Once I clear up all confusion with the Warlock I'll return to finish my visit."

Aves hoped that a year from now she'd still be trying to find her way back.

"Just in case," said Fringilla, packing extra portions of food in Carduella's bag, before passing it off to her.

Begrudgingly, Aves hobbled out onto the stone path in his stockinged feet to wave her off.

"Where do think such a rumor could have come from?" Fringilla asked her husband.

"I don't know," Aves replied, "But whoever started it, I'm grateful all the same."

Fringilla narrowed her eyes before turning them towards her sister. For the second time in as many days, she watched as someone walked off to Relmund. Despite the princewards having come from abroad, she'd had every faith that they'd find their way to the city. When it came to her sister, however, the probability was halved.

With trepidation, she waited until Carduella was out of sight before ushering her husband inside.

"Make light all you wish," she told Aves, "But if she's not back in three days I'm sending you after her, shoes or no."

On the road beside the Witling Forest, Aves' shoes were placed neatly next to one another, as Delph found a small stream in which to wash his feet. He and Ursa had stopped to rest and water the horse, and in catching his reflection on the surface of a rock pool, Delph removed his shoes and got to cleaning the dirt of travel from his skin.

"I don't know why you'd bother," said Ursa, the headache of having nothing to drink dampening his mood, "If the world ended ten minutes from now, you'd have primped yourself for nothing. Was it not enough that your hair was braided and your body dressed in silk..? Now you've the need to cleanse your unblemished-"

Skin.

In preparing himself to wash away the grime, Delph had tucked the purple robe deeper into his breeches, and tied the long, flowing sleeves into a knot behind his back. It was the first time Ursa had taken note of his wrists, and the lurid pink scars that adorned them.  

"What happened?" he asked with a motion of his head.

"Ah," said Delph, "I don't remember it really, the day of the accident... but father told me what happened as I recovered from it. I caught my hands in the printing press, and apparently, the pain was so great I lost my head and jumped into the lake. Fiepet came in after me though he couldn't swim, and the pair of us were under the water for longer than should have been safe. When father fished us out, the memories were left in the depths behind us."

His memories of Grunterbad... they had started and ended in that lake. But there was no sense dwelling on a past he couldn't recall.

"It was a long time ago," Delph told him, "But they hurt sometimes when it's cold. Fiepet always does his best to keep me warm."

"He's not your blood brother though, didn't you say? So why does he do so much?"

"Because he is good?" ventured Delph, "Because we were raised together and he grew fond of me? I know I am fortunate. I try to pay back his kindness, but I'm not sure that I could ever do enough to thank him."

Ursa took a seat on a large, jagged rock by the stream, cursed its sharpness, and tucked his coat beneath him.

"Are you sure there's nothing further between the two of you..?" he asked.

Delph, crouching in the rock pool, looked up at him with the innocence of a child. "Like what?" he asked in return, "Like a debt or something?"

"Like... for my brother Rel, I admired him. I'll admit it now that I did. He was somewhat of a hero to me, and Pike much the same. But. There was another... like a brother but not. No blood shared between us, and the feeling. With him, it was different. Another kind of closeness."

"Fiepet is my hero sometimes," said Delph, "He's the only family I have. And when one day he marries, I hope to still be beside him. I should think I'll make for a wonderful uncle, all told. Children aren't quite so daunting as adults to talk to."

Ursa trailed his finger in the water.

"So you wouldn't mind if he married?" he asked, aware that in his own situation he could never have been so generous.

Delph shook his head with a smile. "I wouldn't mind if he found someone. Father didn't think much of the women in Grunterbad though. He always hoped that Fiepet and I would find wives from elsewhere. In all honesty, I thought little of them myself... but I think I'm not the type to marry after all. My heart is yet to move for another."

Had Ursa's heart moved? Was that what his feelings for Min became? A man who protected him above all others in the wake of Rel's death. Unable to accept that his friend had left so soon, unable to bear the pain of losing his family, and every shred of happiness he'd left behind in Hofingrad; Min had placed all his hopes on Ursa. He'd become the surrogate brother that Ursa never asked for.

He would not let him fight, he would not let him cry. Medicated under lock and key, Rel's little brother would not be failed as the rest had been. Min would keep him safe, but always from a distance. 

Before the Counsel had attendants he could assign at will to watch him, he'd had no choice but to care for Ursa himself. It was easy to be confused. For Min, he was doing his duty to Rel. Ursa was still a child in his eyes, one left behind at the mercy of the Protectorate, that deserved all the kindness he could give. For Ursa, having reached manhood in Min's absence; the affection he received was felt with the burning heart of a man in the throes of his first, agonizing love.

For decades he had grown beyond the limitations of the box that Min tried to keep him in. He wasn't sure when Min began to sense it; that Ursa's feelings were not those of a brother... only that he saw him less. He became more of a specter beyond his reach.

The Counsel.

When Min became the Counsel, he could no longer recognize him. Fed his tonic, and kept under watch, Ursa rebelled in the hopes of gaining Min's attention. Drinking. Gambling. Women. He had been so desperate for Min to no longer see him as a child, and yet his behavior became more childish with each passing day.

Sometimes the Counsel would come to the house and admonish him, but most days Ursa was alone with only the silent guards for company. Pike was looking for the witch, and Ursa wasn't to interfere. Min knew that even Rel's brother would not escape punishment if he got in the way. It was safer, Ursa was told, that things remain the way they were.

His hate for Pike began to grow. Not only had he forgiven the witch for his part in their family's deaths, but he was turning Min against him.

After years of bitter frustration, Ursa reached his breaking point. He cited the change of the isle's name as his reason for leaving... but he'd been looking for one for the longest time. Whatever pull he felt towards Min, the perverse desire to stay his prisoner in the hopes he would rekindle his kindness; it was not enough. He couldn't stay with them, unfulfilled and brimming with hatred.

He ran. He took his chance and he left them, vowing never to return. And just as Merit Fox had looked after the broken boy on the boat, she found herself tending to the boy with the broken heart. 

"There's nothing to loving someone anyway," said Ursa, "I've had more than my share of women, and there's no great loss if you haven't the inclination. I wonder though... if you don't make it back and the world were to end; would you die here a virgin..?"

Delph's cheeks burned pink. "Would that be so terrible?" he asked.

Ursa laughed, and threw a pebble into the water beside Delph's feet. "Probably?" he said.

"But I thought it was no great loss!" protested Delph, "So why do you laugh? And, anyway! With the rumor that the witch is still alive, the Warlock won't destroy us, will he? There's every chance I'll do it before I die!"

Ursa laughed again. He wondered what Pike's reaction would have been when he heard the news that the Witling Woman had found the witch. If Min would be riding out with him to the depths of the forest. They'd likely be in Hofingrad by the time the pair arrived to discern fact from fiction. He thought of leaving a note, but knew it was futile.

What would he say? 'Min, if you don't want to die a virgin, come find me in Hofingrad'?

"Do you want to do it?" asked Ursa.

Delph raised his eyebrows. "Not with you, if that's what you're asking."

"I haven't had a drink since the Sirrup House," moaned Ursa, "There's a place between the forest and Forinstad... at least there used to be. Rel once told me he'd take me to wet my wick when I turned eighteen tens. I'm far past that and I've still not been. Something to check off both our lists perhaps?"

It wasn't that Delph had been entirely without opportunity before. He was a very handsome youth, with clear skin and large sparkling eyes that invited admiration. The village girls had shown interest in the printmaker's youngest son, but it was rare to catch a glimpse of him. So shy was Delph, that he seldom left the printworks; and young ladies, despite their partiality, had no opportunity to meet with him in polite society.

The older ladies took no mind. The writers, washerwomen and cooks who found excuses to visit Strahl's Printworks, would happily chase the fair youth around, and pinch his cheeks if they caught him. And then there were the men. A suit of clothes betraying Delph's masculine physique was often not enough to deter them. One or two were adamant that the Printmaker's son was a daughter masquerading.

Delph shuddered at the memory, and thanked the stars that Fiepet was never far from his side.

"With a woman then?" asked Delph.

"If you like," Ursa replied, "But it wouldn't have to be. You do know the Warlock intended to marry a man, don't you?"

Delph blushed, and Ursa took delight in it. Any kind of amusement, any kind of distraction. Whatever stopped him from thinking of the past... of Min...

"It's settled then!" cried Ursa, "A first and final time before the end of the world."