Chapter 3
Rowan Valebright woke up late.
This was unprecedented.
He did not leap from bed at dawn.
He did not immediately assess threats.
He did not reach for his sword.
Instead, he lay still, staring at the ceiling, deeply suspicious of the sunlight.
"...Something's wrong," he muttered.
Lila hummed beside him, still half-asleep. "Yes. You're relaxed."
Rowan frowned. "That's not safe."
She smiled without opening her eyes. "You're married now. You're allowed to be."
He considered that.
"...I don't trust it."
She laughed softly and rolled onto her side, draping an arm over his chest with casual ownership. Rowan froze, then very slowly relaxed again.
"This is becoming a pattern," he said.
"You waking up confused?" she asked.
"No. You pinning me."
"Mhm."
"...I like it," he admitted.
She opened one eye. "Good."
Rowan sighed contentedly — then stiffened.
"The guild," he said suddenly.
Lila did not move. "Still there."
"Dorian."
"Still chaotic."
"The chicken."
She smiled. "Still undefeated."
Rowan closed his eyes. "I should check."
"No," she said calmly.
He opened one eye. "No?"
"You checked yesterday. You checked the day before that. And you checked at midnight."
"...That was instinct."
She propped herself up slightly. "Your instincts are very loud."
He sighed. "I don't know how to do this."
"Do what?"
"Be present," he said. "Without preparing for disaster."
She kissed his collarbone lightly. "You practice."
He swallowed.
"...Alright."
They stayed in bed another five minutes.
Rowan considered this a victory.
At the guild, Dorian Lionsreach was losing a debate with a chair.
The chair was winning.
"Listen," Dorian said sternly, pointing at it, "I need you to stay there."
The chair did not respond.
It creaked.
Dorian narrowed his eyes. "That's what I thought."
A clerk cleared her throat. "Sir Dorian?"
"Yes?"
"The schedule you approved contradicts the schedule you rejected."
Dorian blinked. "...That seems unlikely."
She held up both parchments.
They were identical.
Dorian stared.
"...I see."
The chicken clucked from the windowsill.
Dorian pointed at it. "You saw nothing."
The chicken blinked.
Dorian sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Why is this harder when Rowan's here?"
The clerk hesitated. "Because you can't pretend you're in charge anymore?"
Dorian winced. "Uncalled for."
She smiled apologetically. "A little called for."
Another clerk rushed in. "Sir Dorian! We have a situation."
Dorian straightened. "How bad?"
"...It's a question."
Dorian groaned. "I told them—"
"It's not that question," she hurried. "It's about patrol routes."
Dorian paused.
"...Oh. That's fine."
He waved her closer. "What about them?"
"They've noticed a pattern."
Dorian froze.
"...Define pattern."
The clerk hesitated. "Monster activity is... shifting."
Dorian's stomach dropped.
"Not attacking," she added quickly. "Just... moving."
Dorian stared at the map on the wall.
The chicken hopped down and pecked at a point near the border.
Dorian looked at it.
"...Don't," he warned.
The chicken pecked again.
The clerk swallowed. "Should we tell the Guild Master?"
Dorian looked at the door.
Then at the map.
Then at the chicken.
Then back at the clerk.
"No," he said firmly.
The clerk blinked. "No?"
"He's married," Dorian said. "He's learning how to eat breakfast without anticipating war."
The chicken clucked.
"Yes," Dorian added. "Exactly."
The clerk hesitated. "But—"
"We monitor," Dorian said. "Quietly."
The clerk nodded slowly. "You're sure?"
Dorian squared his shoulders. "Absolutely."
The chair creaked again.
Dorian glared at it. "I am confident."
Rowan arrived at the guild just before noon.
Not in armor.
This caused three clerks to panic and one to faint.
"It's fine," Rowan said gently. "I'm just... visiting."
Dorian turned so fast he nearly tripped.
"ROWAN."
"Yes."
"You're here."
"Yes."
"...Without armor."
Rowan smiled faintly. "Don't tell anyone."
Too late.
Lila followed him in, clipboard already in hand.
"Good afternoon," she said cheerfully.
The chicken clucked and hopped down to stand near her.
Rowan stared. "...It follows you now."
Lila shrugged. "We understand each other."
Dorian looked betrayed. "I raised it."
"You declared it morale," Rowan replied. "It chose joy."
They moved through the guild together.
Rowan noticed it immediately — how problems reached him less. How Lila intercepted conversations, redirected complaints, solved small things before they grew teeth.
It was... nice.
Too nice.
"Dorian," Rowan said casually, "anything I should know?"
Dorian smiled instantly. "Nope."
Rowan paused.
"...That was fast."
"Yes."
Rowan looked at him.
Dorian met his gaze, unblinking.
"...You're lying," Rowan said mildly.
Dorian smiled wider. "I prefer 'curating information.'"
Lila glanced between them. "Dorian?"
"Yes?"
"If something's important, we handle it. Together."
Dorian hesitated.
The chicken clucked.
Dorian sighed. "Fine."
He pointed at the map.
"Monster movement," he said. "Nothing aggressive. Probably nothing."
Rowan studied it.
He felt it — that familiar pull, the weight settling back onto his shoulders.
Then he looked at Lila.
At her calm.
At the way she trusted him to choose.
Rowan exhaled slowly.
"...We watch," Rowan said. "No mobilization."
Dorian blinked. "Really?"
"Yes," Rowan said. "I'm not chasing shadows."
Dorian nodded. "That's... new."
Rowan smiled faintly. "Marriage."
The chicken clucked approvingly.
Rowan sighed. "Stop agreeing with me."
That evening, Rowan and Lila walked home again.
"You ignored it," she said softly.
"Yes."
She squeezed his hand. "Proud of you."
He smiled. "I don't feel heroic."
She leaned into him. "You feel present."
They reached their door.
Behind them, somewhere in the city, a distant horn sounded — not alarmed, just... wrong.
Rowan paused.
Lila felt it too.
They looked at each other.
"...Tomorrow," Rowan said.
She nodded. "Tomorrow."
They went inside.
The city exhaled.
And far away, something patient smiled.
Dorian Lionsreach was very good at watching problems.
He was less good at not becoming one.
He stood in the guild's map room with his arms crossed, staring at the pinned parchment like he could intimidate it into behaving.
The map did not care.
"This," Dorian said aloud, "is what we call observation."
The chicken clucked from the windowsill.
"Yes," Dorian agreed. "Quiet observation."
The chicken hopped down and pecked at the edge of the table.
"No touching," Dorian warned. "We are being subtle."
The chicken blinked and pecked again.
Dorian sighed. "I swear, ever since Rowan got married, everyone thinks rules are optional."
The chair creaked.
Dorian ignored it.
He leaned closer to the map. The markers—small wooden pegs denoting monster sightings—had been shifting all week. Not closer to the city. Not farther away.
Sideways.
It bothered him.
It bothered him professionally.
"Nothing aggressive," he muttered. "Nothing coordinated."
The chicken pecked at a peg and nudged it half an inch.
Dorian stared.
"...That is not helpful."
The chicken clucked.
Dorian rubbed his face. "I am not calling Rowan."
The chicken blinked.
"I am not," Dorian repeated. "He's learning how to be a husband."
The chicken hopped onto the table and sat on the map.
Dorian stared at it.
"...Get off."
The chicken did not get off.
Dorian exhaled sharply. "Fine. Sit there. But if you start glowing, I'm leaving."
The chicken tucked its feet beneath itself.
At home, Rowan Valebright was attempting something far more dangerous than monster surveillance.
He was cooking.
Lila leaned against the counter, arms folded, watching with a smile that was far too entertained to be kind.
"You're chopping very aggressively," she noted.
Rowan glanced down at the vegetables. "They started it."
She laughed softly. "You don't have to fight dinner."
"I know," he said. "My hands don't."
He slowed deliberately, forcing himself to breathe, to stay.
This was harder than combat.
He felt it again—a distant tug at the back of his mind. That old sense of readiness, of something not quite right.
Rowan paused.
Lila noticed instantly.
"Rowan."
"I know," he said quietly.
She stepped closer. "What is it?"
"...The world," he admitted. "It's always loud to me."
She rested her forehead against his shoulder. "You don't have to answer it every time."
He nodded, closing his eyes.
"I chose to ignore it today," he said.
She smiled. "I noticed."
He exhaled. "That was harder than ignoring a dragon."
She kissed his cheek. "You're doing well."
The knock at the door came at that exact moment.
Rowan stiffened.
Lila sighed. "Of course."
They shared a look.
"Five silver says it's Dorian," Rowan muttered.
Lila smiled. "Double or nothing if it's about the chicken."
Rowan opened the door.
A breathless apprentice stood there, pale and panicked.
"Guild Master!"
Rowan relaxed slightly. "...Not Dorian."
The apprentice swallowed. "Sir Dorian sent me."
Rowan closed his eyes.
"...I lose."
Back at the guild, the situation had escalated in a way Dorian would later insist was not his fault.
The map room door burst open.
A clerk stumbled in. "Sir Dorian! The western patrol reports—"
"Yes," Dorian said quickly. "I know."
"You do?"
"Yes."
"...How?"
Dorian gestured vaguely. "Instinct."
The chicken clucked.
The clerk hesitated. "They say the monsters stopped."
Dorian blinked. "...Stopped?"
"Yes. They're just... standing there."
Dorian frowned. "Standing?"
"Facing the city."
The room went quiet.
"...That feels new," Dorian said.
The chicken pecked the map once.
The peg rolled.
Dorian stared.
"...I don't like it when you agree with the map."
The clerk whispered, "Should we raise an alert?"
Dorian inhaled.
This was the moment.
The old him would've shouted. Mobilized. Escalated.
The married Guild Master was trying something else.
Dorian squared his shoulders.
"No," he said firmly. "We wait."
The clerk blinked. "Wait?"
"Yes."
"...Are you sure?"
Dorian nodded. "Absolutely."
The chair creaked ominously.
Dorian glared at it. "I am confident."
The chicken clucked.
The clerk hesitated. "Sir... are you... covering for the Guild Master?"
Dorian paused.
"...Yes," he admitted.
The clerk nodded slowly. "That's new."
"Don't get used to it," Dorian said. "It's uncomfortable."
Rowan arrived at the guild just after dusk.
Not armored.
Still calm.
Dorian saw him and immediately straightened like a child caught near a broken vase.
"ROWAN."
"Yes."
"You're here."
"Yes."
"...You felt it."
Rowan nodded. "I did."
Dorian exhaled. "Good. Because I did not want to explain that over dinner."
Lila stepped in behind Rowan. "What happened?"
Dorian gestured at the map. "They're watching."
Rowan studied it.
He felt the pull again.
The old itch.
He straightened—then stopped.
Lila's hand slipped into his.
He looked at her.
She shook her head, just slightly.
Rowan exhaled slowly.
"...No mobilization," Rowan said.
Dorian blinked. "Even now?"
"Especially now," Rowan replied. "If they're waiting, we let them."
Dorian nodded. "I was hoping you'd say that."
Rowan raised an eyebrow. "You?"
"Yes," Dorian said. "It felt... responsible."
Rowan smiled faintly. "I'm proud of you."
Dorian recoiled. "Don't."
The chicken clucked loudly.
Rowan looked down at it. "...You too?"
The chicken blinked.
Rowan sighed. "I'm surrounded."
The tension broke when a clerk burst in laughing hysterically.
"Guild Master!" she gasped. "You need to see this."
Rowan frowned. "See what?"
She pointed outside.
In the courtyard, the chicken stood proudly atop a crate.
Around it, several guards stood awkwardly.
"...Why are they saluting it," Rowan asked carefully.
Dorian squinted. "...I might have told them it outranks them temporarily."
Lila laughed.
Rowan closed his eyes.
"...Marriage is teaching me patience," Rowan said.
The chicken clucked triumphantly.
Rowan opened one eye. "Get down."
The chicken hopped off the crate and immediately knocked it over.
Nothing exploded.
Rowan exhaled. "Progress."
Lila squeezed his hand. "You chose us today."
He smiled. "I did."
Dorian watched them, quieter than usual.
"...You're changing," he said.
Rowan nodded. "So are you."
Dorian grimaced. "I don't like it."
Rowan chuckled.
Outside, the monsters eventually moved on.
The city never knew how close it came to panic.
And Rowan Valebright went home with his wife instead of chasing shadows.
For tonight, that was victory enough.