Tales of the three preceded them, as rumors often did, but no rumors could match the truth. When the citizens of Fahrenn saw their princess walk through the gate with two former guardsmen, many were slack-jawed. Adaline’s bright blue hair flowed down the back of her sleek and brutal armor. Made from the red scales of the Rathalos and the black spikes that lined the Stygian Zinogre, the princess’ form-fitting battle dress showed plenty of skin, but also how deadly getting near that skin would be. Her helmet was nothing more than a dark crimson flower fashioned from the same materials, but it kept her hair out of her face and away from the blue machalite of the Rathian pendant resting above her obvious cleavage. As impressive as her armor looked, however, more eyes were locked on the switch axe strapped to her back, made from a mix of both rath wyverns, and more still on the arm of the former guard around her waist.

Tyr shrugged off their looks. The Toridcless feathers and Ray Gougarf fur of his armor had been blended together into what could’ve easily passed as normal clothing were it not for the blade on his back. The Mohran Whisker had been upgraded with Glacial Agnaktor scales and shards of the never-melting glacial core, giving the blade an edge that reflected all the colors of the world, and cut with the chill of a colorless winter. The smith had dubbed it Breath of the Leviathan, and had it not been sheathed then their companion might not’ve drawn the crowd’s attention away with his entrance.

Orion spun his Barioth daggers expertly as he walked through the crowds, flashing everyone a smile nearly as pointed as the teeth on his blades. When he finally stopped, it was easy to notice just how serrated the orange tipped blades were, and it was terrifying to think what they could do when charged with his chakra. What was more harrowing was his custom Rathalos armor. He had claws on his boots and gauntlets, an eltalite visor cut thin enough to see through, and the sheathes for his blades had been placed along his arms. So, even being last among three to step through the gates, his wyvern-like appearance and natural showmanship got him the most attention.

There to greet them was a party of familiar faces, none of which were less shocked than the crowd. Even so, the King was a better politician than he often gave himself credit for, and so he addressed the group with his best smile. “I’m glad to see that you’re all doing so well,” he said. “Welcome back home.”

Adaline looked to Tyr, since he had been elected their leader. She imagined that everyone expected her to speak, which, if she had to admit it, made her silence all the sweeter. Tyr just smiled. “I’m glad to see you well yourself, King of Fahrenn, but we can’t accept your welcome.”

A hushed murmur fell across the gathered crowd, but the others were no less stunned. Clay Claw coughed to buy time as the King did his best to recover. “I’m afraid I don’t understand your meaning, Leader of The Untitled.”

“This isn’t our home,” he said. “And you’ll have to call me Tyr. I hold no titles anymore, and I’m afraid I’m still no good with formalities.”

“It may not be your home, Tyr, but my daughter’s home will always be here.”

“Actually, Father,” Adaline said with a sad smile. “My home is with Tyr now.”

“Ridiculous,” he boomed. “You are my daughter. You have obligations to your people, to your family.”

“Sarah was always the dutiful daughter and you know that. My place isn’t here, sitting in the castle and waiting for some prince to come rescue me from my boredom.”

“I will not have this discussion with you here, Adaline.” The King raised a hand, and several knights emerged from the crowd, their weapons at the ready. “Come to the castle so that we can talk.”

Tyr took a look around, measuring their odds against a larger force with the home advantage. He glanced from face to face, and finally down to Adaline. She smiled at him then, but part of Tyr wondered just how many doubts she was having about what they needed to do. These were her people, after all, and this was the home he’d stolen her from. Still, she’d made it clear before they’d come that nostalgia and tradition were hardly how she wanted to live. So, he only had one choice.

“We will all join you at the castle, King of Fahrenn.” Tyr waited for an objection, or even a contrary ruling, but something worked, because none came.

“At sunset then. I will have a feast prepared to honor your return.” With that said, the King and his men left, as did most of the crowd. There was little entertainment left if it would all be settled at supper, and many were still under the impression that Adaline was unapproachable without invitation. When the sand settled, only a handful of guards and their commander were left.

“I see you’ve done well for yourselves,” Clay Claw said. “Managed to steal a princess out from under my best team and escape all the way to Kokoto just in time for winter. Picked a name for your little group that I can’t help but hear on the lips of every other hunter at the Guild Hall because of how fast you’ve been advancing. Royally ticked off not just the King, but the Queen as well, and despite quitting the guard you’re now the princess’ only protection.” The old Melynx paused and shot Tyr a look that stunned all of her trainees. “Did I miss anything?”

“I don’t suppose word of Orion’s personal exploits made it this far yet?” Tyr asked with a grin.

“I don’t pay attention to any rumors that claim Orion could hold onto three women at once.”

“Commander!” Orion shouted, deflating. Everyone shared a good laugh, and then headed to the Commander’s house to catch up on all they’d missed. There was an exceptional amount. Hammer Maiden had followed Guard of Death’s example and summarily vanished from detection. Whether she’d gone after him, or merely gone because of him, was anyone’s guess, but more of the male recruits had complained about losing her than they did about the lanky wyverian.

Molin and Jaruk had both made it to the rank of Captain, though each had been promoted for different reasons. Oliarta had refused her own promotion, insisting that Orion would return for the position soon-enough.

“I’m starting to think,” Molin said. “That she’s actually in love with you. Gonna break poor Dervish Guard’s heart.”

“Shut your mouth,” Oliarta said as she slapped the back of Molin’s head.

“Hey, Commander! She just assaulted a superior officer!”

“So do Cephalos, One-Hit Captain. If I had to care about everything that hit you, I’d have to put the whole desert under arrest.”

“It’s good to see some things don’t change,” Tyr said with a smile.

“Fata,” Molin casually swore. “It is so weird seeing an actual smile on your face.” He received another smack for that one.

“Hey,” Jaruk said. “In all fairness, it’s a little odd. But it’s the good kind of odd, I think.”

“Better than the scowl the Queen left here with,” Molin said. “I thought she was going to tear us apart when tearing the barracks apart didn’t do the trick. Even trashed this place.” He gestured around to the immaculate quarters of the Commander. “She was a nightmare.”

“She is your Queen,” Clay Claw reminded them all. “But she was, perhaps, overzealous in her search for you, Adaline.” They shared a look which few in the room understood. “I heard that, as she was leaving, she simply grabbed the first G-Rank post available and departed without so much as a meal. Lior has never liked being here if she can help it, but she at least usually lets the city see her off. Last I heard she was heading to the southern continent, following rumors of a Kushala Daora that had been spotted down there.”

“At least we know where we won’t be going,” Orion said as he leaned his chair back onto two legs.

“And what about Sarah and Kean? Any news from Loc Lac?” Adaline asked.

“From what I hear, the people there are certainly happy about having them,” Jaruk said. “Kean has been hunting so much that the city barely sees him, but they’re still happy to have him keeping them safe. Sarah I haven’t heard much about though.”

“She wrote to me recently,” Clay Claw said. “She wanted to make certain that you were alright, Adaline, since ‘It must be a terribly crippling disease which keeps Adaline from picking up a quill.’”

“I hadn’t realized that Kokoto would be so demanding on my time. You didn’t tell her too much, I presume?” When Clay Claw shook her head, Adaline continued. “Then I do hope you apologized to her for me.”

“You’re still suffering from that disease then?” Clay Claw asked with a grin few had seen before, to which Adaline blushed and fidgeted a bit.

“They’re visiting tomorrow,” Molin added casually, and Oliarta shot him a death glare.

“You weren’t supposed to tell them that.”

Adaline pressed herself firmly against Tyr’s chest, and he tightened his arms around her naturally to compensate. Her reaction was unexpectedly unhappy. “When will they be here?” Adaline asked, a bit of royal command leaking back to her voice.

“No one’s certain exactly when,” Oliarta said on behalf of her loudmouthed friend. “But it’s the reason your father wants to keep you here. Well, one of them. I don’t think he wants Sarah to think he’s played favorites with you.”

“Instead of thinking at what the King wants,” Clay Claw said, motioning with her paw towards the setting sol through the window. “I suggest you make your way to speak with him yourselves.”

There wasn’t much chance to ask anything during dinner. The King was entertaining guests from Dondruma, who were fascinated with the princess’ gear. They were armor designers, traveling the continent in search of inspiration for new fashions to introduce back home. Whatever the Princess was wearing they naturally assumed was the ‘cutting edge of fashion,’ and the pair laughed at their own joke, even half an hour after it was first said. As luck would have it, they were far too busy with their investigations to stick around for the entire meal, and so, during a dessert of the chef’s special Whipped Monoblos Mousse, Adaline broached the subject on everyone’s mind.

“Father, about my position with The Untitled,” she started, but stopped just as suddenly. “I understand that I’m still a princess, and I know my obligations to my people, but I’m happy with Tyr, and doing some good in the world.”

“If you knew your obligations, Adaline, we would not be having this discussion,” her father replied, lacing his fingers together as he leaned forward. “When I announced your Cleansing, suitors began lining up from every major city. Do you expect me to turn them all away just because of your infatuation with this young man?”

“It is not an infatuation,” she said, staring down the much larger man. “And I’m not going to go through with it. I’ve forsaken my titles too, to be with him.”

“You can’t choose not to be royalty, Adaline!” Her father was more furious than she’d ever seen him, and she started backwards. “You can choose to be a Hunter or a Diplomat. You can choose to pay vendors with coins or with favors. You can even choose to only see Fahrenn once a decade if you want to be like your mother, but you cannot choose not to be a princess. We are different from the rest of the world, and we have our own rules we have to abide by because of it.”

“But I don’t want that life anymore.”

“It doesn’t matter what you want!” He slammed a fist on the table this time, toppling several glasses. “Do you remember what I have always told you?”

“You’ve… told me so much. I… I…” She couldn’t think, put under the spotlight of her father’s fury.

“We are one. Whatever happens to one of us, happens to the rest. If you ever were to lose your royalty, to give it up, the rest of us would have to give it up as well. Your sister would lose her status, her marriage no longer worth anything. Our family, who have ruled peacefully over this land for centuries, would be banished from it, never to return or hold a title within it again.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Tyr said before he could think better of it.

The King’s eyes locked with Tyr’s. “It might seem so to someone with no respect or appreciation for the old ways, but these are the rules my grandfather-six-times laid down for our family to follow. My daughter might think throwing centuries away for you is worth it, but I have to think of my entire family, my guards, my people, and the war which will be fought to claim them if we ever give up our home.”

No one was ready to speak after that, though Adaline found her voice first. “My home is the world,” she began. “I go wherever I’m needed, helping whoever I can. This is my oath, and to that oath I swear my name. Not my honor, for honor is not the same everywhere. Not my title, for I am Untitled. I swear my name, the last and only thing I will be called in this world.” Orion, who’d made the oath on their journey back, had never expected it to be used in such a way. It took every ounce of his former training to keep from laughing at the King’s stony expression.

“But,” she added. “I can’t be responsible for a war like that. So, I will do what I must to keep the peace.”

“Very good,” the King said. “So, you will drop this infatu-“

“No, Father. I won’t be with anyone but Tyr. No matter what the traditions dictate, they do allow me to choose whomever I want from my eligible suitors.”

“Then I expect your proposal by the morrow,” King of Fahrenn said to Tyr, his voice finally calming. “I want your intentions to marry my daughter laid out so that I can finally be rid of all these foreign dignitaries and messengers rousing me at every hour of the day.”

Adaline beamed, leaning over to kiss Tyr in what was considered a highly inappropriate way for a princess at dinner, but which suited the atmosphere perfectly. Her father politely turned his head, and Orion gave them a few claps. “So, I guess this means I have to polish my best armor then?” he asked Tyr with a grin, and was surprised when Tyr shook his head.

“There isn’t going to be a wedding, Orion.” Every face at the table fell, although each fell into a different emotion.

For the former captain, that was confusion. “Wait, you’re what?” He glanced nervously at the King and tried to chuckle. “I’m sure he’s just caught up in some sort of Nifilan thing about marriages.”

For the King, that was anger again. “What do you mean? My daughter convinced me to let her marry an unaligned mercenary only for you to deny the honor of her hand?”

“No,” Tyr explained. “I’m not denying it, but I don’t plan on marrying your daughter anytime soon.”

For the princess that’d given up everything she was for the man who’d just rejected her, that was sadness, deep and churning at the bottom of her stomach. She couldn’t feel the chair beneath her. The color drained from her face, and all she could whisper was “Tyr…?” Adaline couldn’t understand what she’d done wrong, or even where this had come from. They’d been in such wonderful bliss the whole winter, and he hadn’t backed away from all her father’s anger, but what did it even mean if he was letting her go now?

“Adaline, you’re more precious to me than anyone has ever been, but I’ve only just gotten to know you over the past few months. I can’t dedicate this life to you without knowing you better, without seeing you in every season and proving to myself that I can make you smile no matter how sad or angry or empty you might feel. I’d gladly suffer titles to stay with you, and fight through any quest they could think up to see you smile, but this is about more than making you smile.” He brushed away a few tears from her face and gave her another small kiss. “I hate to ask you to wait any longer than you have, but I can’t get married just to satisfy some royal ritual. That’s not the kind of person I am.”

“But if you don’t then I have to get married to someone else, Tyr. I have to. I have to within a year of the qualification announcement. Please,” she begged, pressing her face against the woven fur that covered his chest. “Please, Tyr. I can’t be that selfish.”

The looks from Orion and the King only confirmed the story he’d just been told. “Is this what happened to Sarah?” he asked, eyes closed in deep thought.

“Yes,” Adaline said through stifled sobs, and Tyr, forsaking tradition entirely, pulled her into his lap. There were no objections, not even from the King. Inside Tyr’s mind, however, there were more than a few objections, which he didn’t get much time to contemplate.

“I don’t suppose we could just get really specific about the qualifications portion?” Orion asked.

“W-what?” Adaline asked back, sniffling a bit.

“So, tradition says the bride has to lay out a set of things that a person has to match up with before they can offer marriage, yeah? So, I just thought you might boost up the difficulty a bit by getting more specific, you know?” He wasn’t looking at anyone, which made it easier to think out loud. “It’d buy some time…”

“But,” Adaline objected, trying to wrap her mind around the idea. “I don’t think anyone has changed the guidelines in… three hundred years.”

“But they all had the option to, right?”

The royals pondered this for a minute, and Adaline didn’t dare let go of Tyr. The edicts were clear about exactly how long one had to choose a suitor after the qualifications were made public, assuming any were available. They had always been available before, but no one had ever bothered to ask how high the qualifications could be set. Since Adaline hadn’t made a formal announcement of her qualifications, everyone had just assumed that the standard ‘any suitor from outside the kingdom’ still stood. “It could very well work,” King of Fahrenn said. “If that is your wish, then it could work. Though I’m not certain what qualifications you plan to outline that a thousand suitors besides Tyr couldn’t meet.”

“I mean, she could just do people named Tyr?” Orion suggested.

“I don’t think we want to figure out how many people have my name,” Tyr countered.

“So then, perhaps, Hunters from Nifila?”

“I know two that’d be here faster than you could say Nifila again.”

“Well then you come up with something!”

“Can’t she marry for love?”

“Can’t be measured or confirmed, so no.”

“Then maybe only personal guards she’s had?”

“Every guard is considered her personal guard.”

“I’ll only marry a Legend…” Adaline said softly, and the room quieted enough to hear her finish. “That’ll give us enough time, won’t it?”

“Adaline,” her father said, his voice begging reason. “There are only a handful of Legends in the world. How can you expect this… Tyr to become one of them?”

“Or what if One-Armed Tolk decides to take you up on that offer?” Orion added.

“Then I might have to accept his proposal,” Adaline said, slowly sitting upright. “And Tyr will be a Legend someday, Father. I know he will.”

In her simplest white dress, Adaline addressed the city the following day. She walked onto the wide balcony that princesses and princes had used for the past six hundred years to make their qualifications known, with her father at her right side and the castle chef on her left, standing in for her mother. Flowers, vibrant and rich, had been grown along the edge, forming a wall of color to shield the princess from the dirt of the outside world. It was said that the aroma of all those blooming buds smelled different to each of the royals that experienced it, but Adaline caught nothing but their typical rich perfume, multiplied in strength by sheer numbers. Taking her place at the only break in this wall, Adaline took a breath before giving her address in a loud, clear voice, amplified by the architecture it bounced off of.

“I, Princess Adaline of Fahrenn, daughter of the King Marcus of Fahrenn, am here today to formally announce what qualifications my suitors must possess to be worthy of joining our great line with their own. These qualifications, which are mine and mine alone to decide, have I given to my father, who has deemed them worthy, and to the gods, who have objected not. Thusly it is now to you, my friends and family, my servants and dearest subjects, that I give my qualifications to spread across the land and sea, the sky and even the winds, to all places that words can reach in this world. I warn those of you gathered, however, that I am no ordinary princess, and so the things which I ask of the one who is to be my second half are not ordinary either.

“When I watched my sister give her qualifications, I imagined that they would be the same as my own. Those that she gave were the time-honored qualifications that my father gave at his announcement, his mother and uncle before him, my grandmother’s mother, and all the members of my family since first the we claimed our rule over Fahrenn. When my sister chose her husband and married him, I smiled at her fortune in having found such a brave and courageous companion from such a respected bloodline. Yet it was then I also realized that I could not count on luck or tradition to bring me happiness. The gods do not favor a family so much as they do my own without asking for sacrifice.

“So, for my Cleansing I went to Kokoto, and spent the winter there with a people so different from my own that I could hardly recognize that we lived on the same continent, much less hunted the same wyverns. My time abroad gave me insight into the world, and the things which make marriage both a great honor and an infinite duty that I cannot take lightly if I am to ever be satisfied with my choice. It is for all these reasons and more that my qualifications will be as follows.”

Adaline took a deep, slow breath, scanning the crowd of restless and rapt faces for Tyr. She caught sight of him near the front, and smiled when she glimpsed his own small smirk, the one he wore when he knew something no one else in the room did. It reassured her, just seeing him, that she wouldn’t regret the chance she was about to take.

“My suitor will be a male, and he will have to be a Legendary Hunter,” she said, and if the crowd found it incredible at all they hid it beneath a nervous politeness people only found when they knew doing anything else would cost them dearly. “Such is my will, and so it shall be. Go now, those of you who love and care for Fahrenn. Go and spread these words to all who listen, and may the gods guide you to fortune.”

Although Adaline was smiling, and the crowd was cheering as enthusiastically as crowds did during excitement of any kind, there were a few who weren’t so content with the Princess’ speech. “She certainly has outdone herself,” the white-clad hunter said, glancing sideways at his female companion.

“That she has,” the woman replied, twirling a large arrow expertly between her delicate fingers. “But I can’t imagine what she’s thinking with an announcement like that, unless she never wants to be married.”

“Maybe she knows something that we don’t,” he said.

“Or maybe she’s just looking to cause a scene,” she said, putting the arrow back into its quiver. “Either way, I hope father won’t be too mad about us sneaking in during the announcement.” Without missing a beat, Sarah brushed a long lock of blue hair out of her face, running it back behind her ear so that the end still lightly brushed the pouch at her waist.

“Since I’ll be the first qualified suitor to approach, I doubt he’ll be too displeased,” Kean said with a smirk just for his lovely wife.

“You’re not a Legend yet, dear. And don’t think for a second that you’d be allowed to marry my sister after marrying me.”

“I wouldn’t marry your sister for ten million zenny.”

“Good, because that’s about how much she’s worth.” If Kean had been a greedy man, this might’ve given him pause, may have even turned some cogs in his mind about how simple it would be to be rid of one princess and then enjoy the company of another, but he was more than content with Sarah. What he was not so content with was seeing Adaline sitting on Tyr’s lap when they entered into her room. There was no way he’d become a Legend in the last few months, especially not after being expelled from the city so soon after his return. Yet there they were, and it shocked him how little either seemed to care. Tyr and Adaline, on the other hand, were just as shocked with Sarah’s appearance.

The once perfect image of a woman content to sit on a throne had undergone a major reconstruction. Although she still wore a flowing skirt and simple tunic, both were now made from a mix of monster fur and metallic threads, giving her otherwise simple outfit a dangerous sparkle. Her ears were pierced with no ordinary earrings, but chakra-enhancing gems in the shape of arrows which drastically increased the range and power of each shot she might fire from her elegant bow. That bow was carved from the horn of a White Monoblos, and combined with rainbow ore so that its color changed based on one’s viewing angle. Her arrows were tipped with beautiful Bright Hypnocatrice feathers, giving a bright blush of pink and blue just behind her shoulder. As she smiled and waved to the pair with her fingerless scaled gloves, Sarah couldn’t help but feel a distant twinge in the bottom of her stomach, though she tried to brush it off as hunger.

Adaline jumped to her feet. “Sarah!” she exclaimed, rushing over to take in the spectacle. “You look gorgeous!”

“Thank you, Adaline. Your dress is beautiful.”

“Oh, thank you,” she smiled. “I should have worn a longer dress.”

“And just what were you thinking with your qualification? A Legend?” Sarah sounded more than bit upset. “I don’t suppose you have your eye on the Sword Saint, or even that gunner, Duo?”

“Actually,” she drew out the word slowly, turning back towards her only love. “I’m planning on marrying Tyr.”

As though she hadn’t noticed him before, Sarah politely smiled and stepped past her sister. “Tyr,” she said, lost for a second at how much he’d changed. Not only did it look like his chakra was recovering nicely, but he was stronger than when they’d met, and even more confident in himself. The way he smiled when she said his name was more than evidence of that. “I didn’t know that you had made enough of a name for yourself to be considered a Legend. Normally word would have reached Loc Lac by now. Unless this is as recent as the past week?”

“I haven’t,” he replied with a shrug. “But Adaline seems to think that I have what it takes to become one. I’d be more inclined to agree with her if I were able to fight at my full potential by now. I still can’t redden my chakra yet.”

“Potential is not something measured by the color of one’s spirit,” she said, a quote from a hunter’s manual everyone in the room had read. “But rather by the will of that spirit to conquer its enemies.” Tyr smiled again, that knowing smile she remembered from Nifila. Adaline drew herself around Tyr’s arm, and Sarah’s attention snapped to her sister once more. “Speaking of which, you never wrote to me once all winter. I thought you were sick.”

“I’m sorry. I was so busy in Kokoto, hunting with Tyr and Orion. And, to be honest, I didn’t want to risk Lior finding out where I was.” As Adaline and Tyr both shared the stories of their exploits, the couples settled into the room. Kean and Sarah sat in the chairs, while Adaline insisted on being in Tyr’s lap on the edge of the bed. Sarah wouldn’t have minded so much if Adaline hadn’t just announced her intentions to marry someone less than an hour before. It had been a ploy to make certain that person was Tyr, but since it wasn’t actually certain it seemed wrong to her.

“So,” Kean said as they finished. “You were the Kokoto Three? I find it incredible that three hunters at your skill level could do all of those things they say you did. Adaline’s training alone seems like it would’ve taken all winter.”

Tyr and his princess exchanged a small look, and then they shrugged simultaneously. It was Tyr who spoke though. “She was a natural with the Switch Axe. There wasn’t much for me to teach her.”

“Much the same as Sarah and her bow then,” Kean added proudly. “When she approached me after the Jhen hunt and asked for training I almost denied her, but I could feel the determination in her chakra. She’s turned out quite gifted, after I got a few silly notions out of her head.”

“What silly notions might those be?” Tyr asked. His arm muscles had tensed, much to Adaline’s surprise, but she told herself that it was only that the rivalry between Tyr and Kean had never really been settled. She pressed herself back into his embrace, a quiet reminder that she was on his side.

“That a fight was like a dance, or that weapon proficiency was based on some sort of calling rather body type and common sense.”

“Yet you said yourself that she was a natural at the bow.”

“And she was, which was obvious when I looked at her. Anyone with Sarah’s constitution, dexterity, and eye for detail would naturally be gifted at a ranged weapon that required fast, precise movements. I didn’t pick the saber because I found it attractive, but rather because my personal assessment of my fighting ability picked it for me.”

“I suppose you picked Sarah based on the same system,” Tyr countered, and the hint of ferocity hidden in his voice tingled the hairs on the back of Adaline’s neck.

“She’s beautiful, well-mannered, intelligent, and from a respected family line,” Kean said, the razor edge in his voice coming through much clearer than Tyr’s. “But I suppose your attraction to Adaline is about some sort of cosmic alignment of chakra, rather than her personality.”

The girls, caught between two warring spirits as strong as Tyr and Kean, stayed silent. Adaline stole glances with Sarah, the two of them comparing some kind of invisible notes that only women could read in each other’s faces. The boys, meanwhile, battled on several levels below the vocal, but escalation demanded more. “Would you care to go on a hunt with us, Kean? The Untitled are in search of a fourth and I’m certain that your expertise in all matters of practical choice would benefit us greatly.”

“I’ll only offer my expertise after we go on a couples’ hunt,” Kean said. “A friendly game to see who can slay a wyvern the fastest.”

“That sounds like a great idea. We’ll make certain that it’s nothing too hard. I saw a posting for a quest called Four Horns when we were at the Guard Post.”

“Naturally, then.” Kean turned his attention to Sarah. “Dearest, you’ll want to prepare paralysis shots for this quest, and poison is highly effective against the Blos as well.”

“Yes, Kean,” Sarah said, stealing a glance to Tyr, who was shaking his head. Whether in disgust, disappointment, or just plain disagreement, she couldn’t tell. He seemed like was about to say something, but when his eyes met hers he must’ve thought better of it. Her husband turned and left, and Sarah forced herself not to linger in those distant bluzel eyes.