The sun rose through a crystal-blue sky, searing away all traces of the rain from the previous night. Horace stood on the balcony of his bedchamber and gazed across the cityscape. Reminders of the storm remained in the burned-out homes and devastated gardens, some of them littered with stony debris from collapsed retaining walls and fallen buildings. Yet the streets were already bustling with people—merchants and workers, silk-curtained palanquins and servants in fine livery.

When they had reached the palace last night, a contingent of soldiers escorted him and Alyra to the queen's chambers where he received effusive thanks from Byleth and even begrudged nods from Xantu, who refused to leave her side. There was no sign of Lord Astaptah, and no one mentioned him either. As the royal physicians looked Horace over, the queen had made him an offer.

“Nothing can convey the depths of my gratitude, Lord Horace,” she said while perched beside him on a fur-covered settee. “But there is one thing in my power that means as much to you. Your freedom. You can leave Erugash at any time and take with you a document in my own hand giving you permission to travel wherever you want. There is an invader stronghold on the Etonian border. You could be there in a couple weeks.”

Horace hadn't known what to say, so he'd said nothing at all. After the doctors finished stitching him up, he and Alyra went back to his manor house. The servants and guards who had survived the attack welcomed them home with broad smiles. After sleeping like a dead man, he awoke in the early morning hours to feelings of emptiness. He wandered out to the terrace to think. If the queen could be believed, he could go back to Arnos or rejoin the crusade. With what he had learned over the past couple months, he could give his people a fighting chance.

But a chance to do what? Conquer these lands? Sack Erugash? And then what? People will die, a few rich men will become richer, and the Akeshians will have to rebuild. Is that what these powers were meant for?

In the past he might have turned to prayer when wrestling with a weighty problem, but the idea of going down on his knees right now seemed…wrong. Had the Almighty saved him from the sea and the wrath of the Akeshians, or had he saved himself? Was this magic a gift or a curse? And where did he really want to be? Who did he want to be with?

The bedroom door opened, and soft footsteps crossed the carpet. Alyra joined him with a covered tray in her hands. “Hungry?”

“Let's eat out here,” he suggested.

Alyra brought out chairs and placed the tray on a table between them. The dish was a blend of eggs and goat cheese cooked into a funnel shape and stuffed with vegetables from the garden. Despite being hampered by an injured shoulder, Horace surprised himself by eating his half in three big bites, and then took a bit of her portion when she insisted.

“Do you want to talk about last night?” she asked.

“I feel a hundred years older this morning. I'm exhausted, but I can't sleep another wink. There's so much spinning around in my head.”

“Like what?”

He looked over the city as he considered his words. “I had a dream that we left Mulcibar entombed down in those pits under the temple.”

“You did what you could, Horace.”

Did I? I brought down an entire temple on top of him. He was a good man, and now he's buried under a mountain of stone.

Alyra touched his hand. “Horace, Lord Mulcibar played a very dangerous game. He knew the risks, but he followed his conscience. You are not to blame for what happened. You didn't start this war, but you did as much as anyone could do to end it.”

He didn't want to be mollified, but her words seeped into his mind, soothing away the sharp edges of his guilt.

“What else?” Alyra asked.

“What?”

“You said you had a lot of things on your mind. What else?”

“Well.” He hesitated, not sure how to broach the subject that had plagued his mind since he woke up without her. He decided to plunge forward and take his lumps. “Us. You and I. Do we have a future together?”

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes. There's nothing for me back in Arnos. This is my home now. I'm still the queen's First Sword. A man with ambition could go far.”

“Or end up in an early grave.”

“A man might be willing to risk that, if he had the right woman by his side.”

She blinked, looking back down at her lap. “Horace, I don't—”

“I lost my wife and son in a fire.”

The words came out in a rush. Horace closed his eyes as the pain rose up inside him. He had to let it out. “Tines had been hit with the plague. Everyone was panicking. I got us passage out on a boat, but there was fighting and a fire broke out and I saw them die right in front of me. I saw them…”

A cool touch lifted his hands and pressed against the scars on his palms. “That's where you got these,” she whispered.

He opened his eyes and found her watching him. Her eyebrows had come together in a frown as tears rolled down her cheeks. Horace wanted to pull her close and crush her against his chest. “I've been lost, Alyra. For so long. It's like I've been sailing across an ocean with no land in sight.”

“I know how that feels. I was lost, too. Then I became an agent and things seemed to get better. But that fear never really went away. I can still feel it. Maybe we could…”

A soft knock rapped at the door. Before Horace could yell for them to go away, Alyra hurried to the door, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands.

One of his guards, Gurita, stood in the doorway. “There is a message, my lord.”

The guard held out a wooden tube, both ends capped with wax plugs. “It came by courier. No name was given.”

Alyra brought the tube to Horace. He broke off one of the endcaps and slid out a rolled tube of papyrus. It was crisp as if freshly pressed. He glanced at Alyra as he unrolled it.

Horace's heart beat harder as he read the fine, precise script in Arnossi.

My friend Horace,

I hope you will permit me to think of you as a friend, for I have few these days and I think that you and I have much in common. We are both men out of our natural element, thrust into positions of power we never desired. You, I think, adapted better than I have. Certainly better than anyone expected.

This message will reach you sometime after my death or disappearance, and I'm afraid it contains few words of hope. By now you must have some sense of the troubled waters you are navigating. I fear that an old enemy has come prowling at the empire's gates. The queen will need your strength, for though she is a goddess in the flesh, she is not infallible—may the gods not punish an old man too harshly for writing such blasphemy.

But as your influence grows, so too will the list of powerful people who wish for your downfall. The ear of the queen comes with a high cost. Guard yourself always and learn whom you can trust. Be faithful and steadfast and never fear to tell her the truth. I will pray for your longevity and your success.

Your friend, Mulcibar Pharitoun et'Alulu

And forgive Lady Alyra. Despite her mixed loyalties, she has always been the very model of grace and constancy.

Alyra gasped as she read over his shoulder. “That…that…faker! All this time, he knew!”

Horace considered the message. If he was really staying in Erugash, then things were going to get more dangerous, not less.

Thank you for everything, old man. I wish we'd had more time together, and I hope you find contentment in whatever heaven your gods have made for you.

“So,” he said. “You were saying something about the two of us.”

“I was?”

Horace let out a deep breath, exhaling all his anxieties for the moment. “I'm just going to say this. You can stay here as long as you like, but I won't hold you back if you want to leave.”

She smiled over the top of the papyrus. “I'd like that.”

“Well, it's decided then.”

“All right.”

Horace went back out to the balcony and leaned against the railing, taking in the sights and smells of the city. It was his home now. Alyra came up beside him, and they looked out over the rooftops together, watching the shadows vanish as the sun rose higher in the bright Akeshian sky. Horace knew what he needed to do now. Taking a deep breath, he began.

“My father was a shipwright for the crown. After I graduated from the University at Altiva, I followed in his footsteps, working first at the company of Lagford and Sons, and later forming my own shipbuilding business. I met Sari and we married within a year, and Josef came along soon after that…”

She leaned on his shoulder and listened.