Oskar was pacing in front of his tent. He spoke hurriedly. Tone and Una on the other hand slouched and spoke calmly. Theodorus was as unreadable as ever. Without his face guard on, Sylvia could see that he was participating in the conversation, but she could not deduce if he shared Oskar’s agitation or not. When she closed in, their conversation paused and all eyes turned to her.

“My King”, Sylvia said, bowing her head to Oskar. Then she turned her attention to Theodorus. “Are you occupied at the moment?”

Oskar waved a hand, dismissing him.

“It appears I am not.”

“Then come with me”, Sylvia urged, turning on her heel.

Curious, Theodorus left his comrades behind. To his surprise, Sylvia led him to his own tent. Stopping in front of it, Sylvia waited for him to pull the tent flap aside and motion an invitation. Once he did, she ducked inside. Sylvia looked around the interior of the square tent. Following her, Theodorus let the tent flap fall shut behind himself.

“What do you need of me?”

“I want to have a closer look at you”, Sylvia said.

Theodorus leaned back every so little. “What do you mean?”

“You invited me to observe you more closely in your tent, did you not? I want to take you up on that offer.”

Theodorus chuckled. His voice was light and easy. Then he fell silent, a wide smile remaining on his lips. “You are serious”, he realised.

Sylvia nodded.

Tilting his head to the side, Theodorus inspected her for a long moment. Sylvia felt his attention tugging at her sharply. She remained steadfast, resisting the urge to get closer to him.

“Okay”, Theodorus finally said. “What do you have in mind?”

“Undress so I can get a good look”, Sylvia prompted.

Huffing a laugh, Theodorus shrugged in agreement. “If you insist. I would be lying if I said that I mind having your pretty eyes on me.”

He pushed the wide hood back and then unclasped the cloak, pulling it from his shoulders. Several cords held his second layer of clothing wrapped tightly around his body. Sylvia watched intently as he untied them. Once the fabric hung loose, he took it off. Beneath the second layer, a complex dark garment hugged his chest. It was littered with pockets and loops, holding sheaths, flat pouches, and small vials of glass. Reaching up, Sylvia hovered her hand over the mix of leather and linen.

“May I?”

Theodorus nodded his consent, so Sylvia proceeded to sate her curiosity. She found one set of daggers near Theodorus’s hips, and another set strapped close to his shoulders. Each weapon was made out of one smooth piece of metal. The handles had been wrapped with linen. Near the now empty scabbards, she also discovered thick needles with a flat edge and no ear.

“Plenty of sharp things”, Sylvia commented.

“For any occasion”, Theodorus jested.

“What about the one under your tongue?”

Theodorus grimaced, bringing it forth. He held it between his teeth demonstratively for a short moment and then let it slip back under his tongue. “Mostly theatrics”, he admitted.

“To what effect?”, Sylvia prodded.

“What effect does it have on you?”, Theodorus returned the question.

“It arouses me”, Sylvia said flatly.

Theodorus startled. Before he could find an appropriate witticism, Sylvia shook her head. “But I doubt that is the intention. I guess it is an intimidation tactic. Correct?”

Theodorus merely smiled at her.

“What else?”, Sylvia asked. “You said mostly theatrics. That implies it is not solely for theatrics.”

Theodorus did not respond. He remained perfectly still, displayed no discomfort or amusement. He was providing no hints which might help to confirm or deny any theory Sylvia may have.

“That thing is of no use in combat”, Sylvia prodded.

Realising that she would not get any further information out of him at this time, Sylvia continued her exploration. In little pockets, she found various ointments, some of which smelled fresh and lovely, and others which Theodorus stopped her from opening. In the vials strapped across his mid were murky brown as well as bright green fluids. Some swirled easily in their container while others clung to the sides. Only one of them, Theodorus opened for her to inspect. The smell wafting from the small glass container was a gorgeous earthy fragrance, like wet dirt and mossy bark.

“What is all this?”, Sylvia asked astounded.

Theodorus pressed the stopper in again and tucked the oblong vial back into a tight noose of leather. “Anything I may need to protect Oskar. Poison and counters. Field medicine. Disinfectant. Odds and ends. It is not much, but coming prepared can mean the difference between life and death.”

“What exactly do you carry?”, Sylvia pressed.

Theodorus shook his head, offering no answer.

That only piqued Sylvia’s interest further. “Why so secretive?”

“It is not for you to know.”

“What would make it for me to know?”

“You are quite insistent”, Theodorus chuckled.

“We have already established that I am driven by curiosity”, Sylvia shrugged.

Theodorus watched her with an inscrutable expression for a few seconds, before cracking a sudden grin. “We could get you started on a few years of basic training, to build some strength and dexterity.” Looking her up and down, he pretended to contemplate her form. “Then maybe another couple of years for technique. Footwork to start with, and balance. Of course, we would need to train your hands as well, make sure you are nimble and smooth. That would be the least hurdle for you, being a scribe and all. And not to forget combat training, close up as well as ranged. Then, maybe we can talk about this again.”

Happy with the detailed answer, Sylvia nodded. She let her eyes flicker over all the items strapped to Theodorus’s body one more time. Finally, she urged, “Take it off.”

“You are rather demanding”, Theodorus said. “What about my interests?”

“I will undress with you if that is what it takes”, Sylvia said at once.

“I do like the sound of that, but what I really want to know is how you silenced that rooster.”

“What rooster?”, Sylvia asked.

“The rooster in that abandoned village.”

“Oh. I just stared at it”, Sylvia shrugged.

“How does one win a staring contest with a rooster?”, Theodorus questioned.

Sylvia shrugged again. “You do not waver. I guess I learned it from my mother. She could silence anyone.”

Theodorus took a hold of Sylvia’s chin and urged her head up. He inspected her eyes closely. Sylvia gave his owl mask her best biting stare. Theodorus did not waver, but Sylvia noticed his pull on her weakening momentarily.

“Interesting”, Theodorus murmured. He let go of her chin and crooked his head. “When you touched the door to the stables, what were you thinking about?”

Sylvia tensed. The memory of Rebecca threatened to wash over her again. “I will not answer that.”

“Why not?”

“It is not for you to know”, Sylvia quipped.

“Point taken”, Theodorus laughed. He reached for the broad clasps at his sides. Sliding the firm leather off, he lay it down flat on the ground. It was stiff, barely moved by gravity while he handled it.

“It is thick, but not that thick. Armour?”, Sylvia wondered.

“It can act as such”, Theodorus confirmed. Looking down at the garment, he added, “I worked some steel wiring into it. It is heavier that way, and it will still not keep a crossbow bolt at bay, but it may stop an arrow.”

“Clever”, Sylvia said, not attempting to hide the admiration in her voice. Turning her attention back to the bare chested man in front of her, she pointed at his legs.

Placing a hand on his belt, Theodorus grinned playfully. When Sylvia failed to react, he shrugged. “As you wish.”

After opening the clasp of the short belt, he bent down to untie the strings which kept the legs of his trousers snug. Taking them off, he folded them in half and set them aside. Under them, his boots revealed themselves to be knee-high, and laced with plates of metal. Matching the rest of his clothes, the plates were coated in black paint to hinder any reflection. Unclasping the top of the snug boots, Theodorus slipped out of them.

Standing before Sylvia in only his underwear, he held his hands out to his sides and teased, “See anything to your liking?”

Not offering a verbal response, Sylvia came closer. She walked around Theodorus, once, twice, and then stopped right in front of him. She stood so close to him, she would have expected to feel his soul, but there was no difference. It was as though she was still standing a good two feet away from him. She could feel his intense gaze resting on her, but not the presence of his soul before her. Reaching up, she placed a hand on his pale shoulder. He was cool to the touch, as though he lacked the energy to maintain his body temperature. Sylvia's mother had the same issue during winter, growing slow and cold in sync with their storage emptying, until there was nothing but bitterleaf and roots.

Tracing a blue vein up along Theodorus’s throat, Sylvia could feel his pulse under her fingers. While tracing over his skin like this, she noticed the tips of his ears flush. She did not need to look down to know that Theodorus was growing hard. She looked either way, just to enjoy the view of his tenting underwear. She would not deny that she too enjoyed the sensation of his skin under her fingers. She explored the soft hair at the nape of his neck, and the prominent lines of his collarbones. She ran her hand down his chest, over the hard ribs, and along the firm expanse of his stomach. Reaching his waist, she watched him stiffen, drawing his shoulders up and holding his breath. Pressing his lips together firmly, he ceased all movement. He stood still like a statue. Sylvia repressed a laugh.

“Well?”, Theodorus taunted.

Sylvia was mildly surprised, and perhaps a little disappointed, that he could keep his voice so calm even now. That was part of his expertise, was it not? He was a lot of talk. A lot of talk and a lot of mystery.

“I have never seen anyone so…” Sylvia ran her eyes along the lines of his stomach, searching her mind for an accurate descriptor. “So slender yet strong.”

“Is that so?”

Running her hands over his firm hips, Sylvia nodded. “How can you be muscular and slender at the same time? If you do not eat enough, you cannot build muscle, no matter how much you train. If you eat properly, you should have at least some fat on you.”

“I guess I eat just the right amount”, Theodorus shrugged.

Sylvia frowned at that. She had seen Theodorus eat. To call it eating was a stretch. He nibbled. Besides, it made no sense. Even if he feasted on the finest ingredients Gaia could offer, he would need to eat enough to put on fat if he was to keep his health. And he did seem healthy, despite his prominent ribs and the oddly pale complexity of his skin. Sylvia leaned in close and pressed her nose against his chest, inhaling the scent of him. It was fresh and sharp, like ice and red berries. There was no hint of malnourishment, no stale smell and no quiver.

Sylvia closed her eyes and removed her hands. As she had expected, she could not sense his soul, not even this close. It was as though he were halfway across the room. Instead, there was a now familiar fixation. Her attention was drawn to the space right in front of her where he stood. She tried to turn her focus to something else. She thought of every single item she had in her possession. A horse. Two saddle bags. A saddle. A tent. A bed roll and a blanket. A spoon. A dagger. A set of needles. Despite her best efforts, she could not shake the prodding feeling in her chest, coaxing her to pay attention to Theodorus. Opening her eyes, she frowned. It was a cheap imitation of a presence. It tugged at her soul, but not the way another soul would. The sensation was more akin to curiosity than it was to desire. It was fascinating.

Theodorus was increasingly confused by the entire ordeal. When Sylvia sighed and looked up at his mask, he waited for the conclusion of her investigation. He expected some kind of reveal after all this, or an explanation at least, anything that could justify her behaviour, but Sylvia gave nothing of the sort. Neither did she act on her admitted arousal. “Thank you”, she said, before stepping back from him.

“Just what are you looking for?”, Theodorus asked perplexed.

Sylvia shrugged a little. “Nothing in particular.”

Theodorus frowned. His mind reeled to find a sensible follow up question, but before he could find one, Sylvia had excused herself from his tent, leaving him alone with his thoughts. “What the fuck?”, he asked the empty space.

A short while later, Una peeked into his tent. She opened her mouth to deliver a message, but paused when she saw his state of undress. “My my, Theo. Is that what Sylvia wanted from you?”

Theodorus huffed. “I wish.”

“Oskar needs us. Guld has come to speak with us. It seems Ida’s charms have worked wonders.”

“I will be right there.”

Theodorus hurried to get ready, and then joined the inner circle just outside of camp. Guld stood in the middle of the road with Edward and Ida. Oskar greeted him politely.

“You wished to continue our discussion?”

Guld made a vague gesture. “After much discussion with my council, I have decided to back your claim.”

“Splendid”, Oskar smiled.

“I realise that I have not been very hospitable. Allow me to make it up to you, My King. Assuming you are headed back to Fristad, allow my ship to take you. There is no need to risk getting stuck in the first snow.”

Sylvia's face lit up at the thought of travelling by ship.

“That would be very convenient”, Thorun agreed.

“Thank you”, Oskar added.

“It is my pleasure to serve”, Guld said. “The ship can be ready as soon as this evening.”

“We will get to packing. I cannot wait to get home”, Thorun said.

“I think it would be prudent to inform you that you are not the first to lay claim to the throne.”

“We are aware that the Wolves suffer under the illusion they could rule Sev”, Yri said.

“I tend to agree with you. However, Jannes Gunn has made inquiries in the matter.”

“Jannes Gunn? He was close to the late king, was he not?”, Oskar asked.

“Quite. He was the king’s right hand”, Guld nodded. “Pleasant fellow. Or so I thought at the time.”

“Another wolf in sheep's clothing”, Thorun grumbled.

Guld nodded in agreement. “I do hope he will choose the right side in due time.”

“No one in their right mind would heed the word of rats”, Thorun said.

“Let us hope he is in his right mind, then”, Oskar commented.

“Agreed. May I have a private word with Ida?”, Guld requested.

Oskar nodded his approval and they left the two of them alone.

Ida relaxed her rigid stance and smiled wistfully. “I will miss you.”

“I hope it is not too forward of me to ask you a serious question”, Linus began.

“Ask”, Ida encouraged.

“If I ask you to marry me, will you stay?”

“No, but it would give me a reason to return.”

“I will ask you when you are back then”, Linus determined.

Ida narrowed her eyes and furrowed her brows.

“I do not know how long it will be before I see you again”, Linus argued.

“If you take anyone else to bed, you never will”, Ida declared.

“That changes things.” Linus reached for one of his necklaces and slid it over his head. Holding it out to Ida, he proposed, “Will you marry me?”

Bowing her head lightly, Ida let him put the necklace on her. “If you are faithful to me until my return, then my answer will be yes.”

Meeting her eyes, Linus spoke with sincerity. “I will wait.” A smile tugged at the corners of his lips and he added, “Do not let go of me for too long.”

“I will come back to you”, Ida promised. “No matter what.”

“I believe you.”

Ida pulled him close and kissed him. Linus tensed momentarily, but then relaxed against her and kissed back.

Pulling away, Ida smiled. “I have to go.”

“Stay safe.”

“Do not tell me what to do”, Ida jested.

Linus chuckled. After placing a kiss on her hand, he let go and watched her leave, the smile slowly fading from his face as she faded from his view.

When Ida returned to camp, Sylvia noticed she was wearing a necklace much like the one Oskar had. Sylvia's eyes travelled to Tone, who wore a necklace akin to the one Guld wore most tightly around his neck. Her eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Oh?”