When Emilie’s eyes finally started opening, Krey had made certain that the first thing they’d see would be him sat at her bedside. Those rubies welled up with tears as they burned away the fog. “Krey… Krey, where… where are…?”

“Easy, my lady,” Krey cooed. He took one of her hands in both of his, squeezing it tenderly. “We are safe. Jalahora Praerie, to be precise. We’ve made camp amid a thinly wooded area a good ways off the road. We’re on our way to Rajata City.”

“What happened? Agh…” her whole face scrunched up, and she sucked air in through her teeth. “Oh, my head… it feels like it’s in a vice…”

“Livia fixed the worst of it,” Krey assured her, “but I’m not surprised there’s some lingering pain. They roughed you up good and proper.”

“I remember…” she groaned, attempting to sit up, but swiftly realising that it was a bad idea as the proverbial vice tightened on her skull. “The Garnet Inquisition. I… I can’t remember what they wanted from me, though…”

“Best not to dwell on that now,” Krey said. “Just know that we’re away from them, and they’re not going to find us. Rest.”

“Yes… I think I shall.” Livia managed a trembling smile, and took several deep breaths.

“Well, I suppose I should say welcome to the club.”

“And why… is that?”

“Well, all three of us have suffered some kind of bloody trauma now. Maybe it’ll help us bond better.”

Emilie convulsed in some kind of mix of giggling and coughing. “Oh, please, do not make me laugh… it makes my headache worse.”

Krey stepped out of the pavilion and into the night. He walked up next to Livia, who was looking back towards the road, watching for any sign of pursuers. “She’s regained consciousness. I think I did okay at keeping her calm.”

“Alright,” Livia acknowledged bluntly.

“Livia… can I ask a favour of you?”

“What is it?”

“Don’t tell Emilie what I told you. I don’t want her to know I have any history with the Garnet Inquisition.”

Livia turned to face him, her hands balled into fists. “What the hell am I supposed to tell her, Krey? That we got mixed up in some random plot just by chance? From what you’ve told me, that doesn’t sound like a believable story.”

“Nevertheless,” Krey pleaded, “it’s what I’d like for us to tell her. She doesn’t need any more on her plate right now, and, quite frankly, neither do I. Having you look at me the way you’ve been looking at me ever since we left Calastre is already hard enough to bare; I don’t know if I could take it if I saw that same look in Emilie’s eyes.”

For a moment, Livia considered lambasting him with both her fists and her words. Venomous rebukes raced through her mind, and they rolled around in her mouth, itching to be spoken aloud. Then her fists unfurled, and her shoulders released the tension that she hadn’t realised was in them until they relaxed. “Okay… fine. I won’t tell her what you told me… but you will. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not the day after… but you have to tell her, Krey. She deserves to know.”

Krey nodded so hard that his head dipped into a shallow bow in the same motion. “I will tell her, just… not here… not now.” He extended a hand out toward Livia. “I really am sorry for getting you two caught up in my past mistakes. I don’t want this to jeopardise the friendship we’ve started to foster, the trust we’ve started to share. So… what do you say? No hard feelings?”

Livia stared at his armoured hand as if he’d taken the gauntlet off and thrown it on the ground… but an old, familiar warmth reached out through her arm from her chest and compelled her to put it forward, to meet Krey’s open palm with her own, and shake it. It was the same warmth she’d felt in Acrevil, the same warmth that’d compelled her to wrap her arms around the halfling barmaid and give her a hug. “No hard feelings.”

They went back inside the pavilion together. These new travellers they’d managed to get a hold of were impressive, and transposed much more lavish accommodations than the flimsy tents they’d had to put up with previously. The pavilion was big enough to comfortably shelter four people, split into quadrants by curtains with a narrow cross-shaped space separating them from each other. Each quadrant had a bed, a footlocker, and a small, enchanted pallite orb that offered both a bit of light and warmth, suspended from the centre of the ceiling fabric on a bit of string. Livia wondered how long these travellers lasted, hoping she wouldn’t be woken up by her bed disintegrating from under her.

They would enjoy a reprieve for the rest of their time on the praerie. Rajata City would provide them their next challenge.