Chapter 86: Elven Danger
When Nathan and Sella entered the communal house, Kalen was sitting calmly in his usual chair. Vera was in the kitchen supervising dinner. And Liaraen was standing by the main window.
With her aristocratic posture fully restored.
With her right hand casually resting on the hilt of her father’s green sword, which she’d been wearing at her belt throughout the return journey as part of her new formal image.
And with her pale green eyes specifically fixed on Nathan as he entered.
Nathan felt Soul Sense react.
Not to an external threat.
To an internal pressure directed specifically at him.
A concentrated intention.
Which apparently the System classified as "focused hostility of considerable level directed at the bearer."
*Ah.*
*That too.*
*Good.*
Nathan stopped approximately three meters from Liaraen.
He looked at her.
With his usual controlled calm.
And with the specifically dramatic voice of someone who’d received an action without having asked for it and was now facing consequences he specifically hadn’t caused:
"Sprout."
"Nathan."
"Why me?"
Liaraen didn’t respond immediately.
Her pale green eyes maintained their position.
Her right hand remained on the sword’s hilt.
"You let yourself get carried away by her when you could avoid it."
And Nathan felt Soul Sense confirm that the internal pressure directed at him had risen two additional levels.
Sella, half a step behind Nathan, started laughing.
Kalen, from his chair, inclined his head with a small contained smile.
Vera, from the kitchen, called out with a calm voice.
"Dinner is ready in five minutes. No one is going to draw weapons inside the communal house. It’s settlement policy."
Liaraen sat processing that specific instruction for a few seconds.
Then she released the sword’s hilt.
Very slowly.
And with her aristocratic voice fully restored, slightly sharper than her normal register:
"Nathan."
"Yes."
"Let’s eat."
"Alright."
"And after that, we’re going to continue the journey."
"Acceptable."
"Without any more prolonged stops."
"Acceptable."
Liaraen turned.
And with her posture maintained at maximum, and with a small barely audible grunt that Nathan recognized as the specific sound of a girl cursing and that she’d internally decided the most appropriate way to process the situation was to accelerate the journey’s schedule, she left the hall toward the dining room.
Nathan watched her go.
Then he looked at Sella.
Sella was still laughing.
Then he looked at Kalen.
Kalen inclined his head again.
"Nathan."
"Yes."
"The possible paths now include specifically more variables than they did before the kiss, and all of them involve you dying at the hands of a sword."
"Understood."
"Dinner is going to be specifically interesting."
"Understood as well."
"Let’s go."
---
Dinner was formal but brief.
Vera served a light soup with fresh bread and fruit. No one explicitly mentioned the kiss, though Sella maintained her broad smile throughout the meal and Liaraen maintained her aristocratic posture at maximum while eating with mechanical precision, commenting on absolutely nothing.
Nathan ate with the neutrality he’d developed over the previous months.
Kalen periodically spoke about general settlement matters. About Vera’s health. About preparations for the coming winter. About recent visits from other Veil contacts.
When dinner ended, Liaraen stood up first.
"Nathan."
"Yes."
"We’re leaving at dawn tomorrow."
"Alright."
"I’m going to rest early."
"Alright."
She withdrew.
Vera accompanied her to the guest room.
Nathan stayed in the dining room with Sella and Kalen.
Sella approached him with her still-wide smile.
"Nathan."
"Yes."
"Tomorrow before you leave, I want to say goodbye properly."
"Sella."
"No kisses this time. Just goodbye."
"Acceptable."
"And when I arrive in Greywall in two or three months, the dynamic is going to be different."
"Understood."
"Very different."
"Understood."
Kalen interjected with his calm voice.
"Sella. Nathan. I’m going to say one thing as a general observation."
"Go ahead," Nathan said.
"The dynamic between the three of you over the coming months is going to include several position adjustments. The possible paths show that none of the initial configurations are going to remain stable. But they also show that the friendship among the three of you is going to persist in the vast majority of variants. Apparently the important thing is that none of you loses perspective on what truly matters."
"I honestly didn’t understand any of that," Nathan replied.
"Understood," Sella replied.
"Good."
Kalen withdrew.
Sella stayed a moment longer.
Then she approached and gave Nathan a small, firm hug.
"Nathan."
"Yes."
"Take care. And take care of Liaraen. Even if she’s angry with you for what happened today."
"She should be angry with you—I’m the victim here."
"And when I arrive, we’re going to discuss how to handle the three-person dynamic."
"That sounded way too sexual."
"I’m fine with that."
Sella withdrew.
Nathan was left alone in the dining room for a moment.
With the feeling that the last thirty-eight days had included considerably more events than he’d considered possible in his entire life up to that point.
*Good.*
*Let’s sleep.*
*We continue tomorrow.*
He went up to the guest room.
He lay down.
And through the wall, he heard the nearly inaudible sound of Liaraen breathing irregularly in the adjacent room.
With her aristocratic posture she was apparently maintaining even while trying to sleep.
And with her right hand, Nathan calculated through passive Soul Sense, still casually resting near the green sword’s hilt.
Nathan smiled at the ceiling.
*The next ten months are going to be specifically interesting.*
*Noted.*
He closed his eyes.
And fell asleep.
---
Sella and Kalen saw them off at the settlement entrance.
Sella with her broad smile. Kalen with his usual calm. Vera behind with formality.
Nathan climbed onto the large cart’s driver’s seat.
Liaraen climbed beside him with her aristocratic posture fully restored. Without commenting. Without looking at Nathan directly. Without visibly manifesting any specific emotion about the previous night’s events.
The two elven horses started moving.
And the cart began to pull away from Sareth.
Sella waved her hand.
"See you soon!" Sella shouted.
Nathan raised his hand in response.
Kalen inclined his head.
About a hundred meters later, when the cart was already turning on the path and the settlement was beginning to disappear from view, Nathan turned to Liaraen.
"Sprout."
Liaraen didn’t respond.
"Sprout."
"Quiet, Nathan."
"Alright."
They continued.
And with his smile adjusted to "I’m going to handle this patiently for the next few days or weeks or however long Sprout needs" mode, Nathan drove the cart toward the northwest.
Toward Marren.
Toward Valcrest.
Toward Greywall.
Where Selene was waiting without yet knowing specifically everything that had happened.