The days in Stonewatch that followed were a study in contrasts. Lorel's world was pain and slow, dogged effort. In the cold dawns behind the Granite Pillow, she moved through basic Jingdao reinforcement forms, her body a symphony of protests. Each stretch for her abdomen was fire. Each fist she made sent lightning up her fractured forearm. But she did them. Chubbs was her constant, chattering audience, fetching water, offering unsolicited but earnest advice on footwork he'd "observed from masters," and ensuring she ate.
Baili trained in utter silence, a hundred paces away. His sessions were not about healing, but refinement. His Cloud Juggernaut would form, then disperse, over and over, the mist growing denser, the silver veins within it sharper. He was honing the edge of his pride. He had, however, ceased banishing Chubbs from their table. The big youth now ate with them, his flowery thanks for the food filling the quiet room, tolerated by Baili as one tolerates a persistent, harmless moth.
They were packing their meager belongings on the morning of their planned departure when a soft knock came at the door. A servant in clean, but not extravagant, livery stood there. "My master requests an audience with the distinguished cultivators," he said with a bow.
Chubbs, ever the gatekeeper, puffed up. "The lady is convalescing and our schedule is tight. Send your master's regards."
The servant did not retreat. "My master is Jou Si, Fourth Prince of the Glory Crown Kingdom. He is most insistent."
The name meant nothing to Lorel. But Chubbs's face went slack, then pale. He leaned close to her, his voice dropping to a theatrical whisper. "The last prince. The queen had four children. The Crown Prince fell from a tower he'd climbed a thousand times. The second daughter's spirit-beast went mad and… well. The third son's cultivation backfired during a simple exercise. All… accidents." The last word hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implication.
The servant's expression remained politely blank. "His Highness is in robust health. The past is tragic, but it was fate, not design. He can offer you things you currently lack. An audience would be… illuminating."
Baili, who had been ignoring the exchange, finally turned. His interest was less than zero.
Chubbs, however, was already recalculating. "My lady," he whispered, this time with excitement. "Prince Jou Si! He's… famously generous. Once, in a market, I—ahem, a friend of mine—bumped into his retinue. Spilled a basket of sun-apples. Instead of having him beaten, the prince gave him a pouch of Milky Stones and wished him a better day! If he's offering help… travel to the Four Kingdoms is long, dangerous. He could have a sky-carriage! We could be there in days, not weeks!"
Lorel saw the logic. She looked at her brother. "Baili. We have a deadline. Two months is not long for a cross-continent journey, especially if I am… slowed." She gestured to her own healing body. It was a practical argument, one his ruthlessly logical mind would respect.
Baili's eyes flickered from her to the patiently waiting servant. A sky-carriage meant efficiency. It meant less time wasted on road-dust and petty bandits. More time to prepare for the true opponents. "Fine," he said, the word a dismissal of the entire social chore. "We will hear his proposal. Lead."
The "most luxurious palace" in Stonewatch was a fortified manor of dark, polished wood and blue-grey slate, built into the mountainside itself. They were led to a sunlit receiving chamber where a young man awaited.
Prince Jou Si was seventeen, with the careful, poised handsomeness of a portrait. His smile was warm, his eyes a friendly brown, and he moved with an approachable energy as he stood to greet them. "Honored guests! The heroes of the Ironwood Grove! Please, be at ease." His gaze fell on Lorel, and his smile deepened with genuine admiration. He took a step forward, his hand beginning to rise in a gesture that might have ended in a kiss to her knuckles.
Baili was suddenly there, a cold, solid presence between them. He said nothing. He didn't need to.
The prince's smile didn't falter; it simply redirected to Baili with amused understanding. "My apologies. Forgive an artist's impulse to appreciate a rare masterpiece." He gestured to low chairs arranged around a hearth where a fire of fragrant wood crackled. "Please, sit."
They sat. Baili was rigid, direct. "Why did you call us?"
Lorel was reserved, her twilight eyes observing everything.
Chubbs was a fountain of enthusiastic agreement with every pleasantry.
The prince steepled his fingers. "I wished to meet those who earned what I merely purchased." From a fold of his rich, deep blue robe, he produced a Jade Medallion, identical to the one they had fought for. He let it catch the light. "You fought with spirit and skill. I acquired this with a letter from my mother's chancellor. We are, in the end, both qualifiers. Though the paths differ."
Baili's lip curled. "The path defines the traveler. You are weak. The strong fight. They do not write letters."
A lesser man might have taken offense. Jou Si only nodded, a shadow of real humility touching his features. "A truth, harshly spoken. Were I not the last thread of my line, I would have been in the Grove with you. My family's… protectiveness… is a cage of silk and fear." He looked genuinely wistful.
Chubbs seized the moment. "But Your Highness's humility is itself a strength! The mighty are so rarely gracious!"
The prince smiled at Chubbs, then his gaze returned to Lorel, lingering. "It is the combination that fascinates me, Lady Lorel. Power is common among cultivators. Beauty is not rare. But the two, fused with such… quiet determination? It is a subject worthy of study. I have many in my circle who could learn from your example."
Baili's voice was a winter stream. "She is betrothed. To the son of the Immortal Jiang."
The effect was instant. The prince's affable mask slipped for a single, unguarded moment—his eyes widened, not with fear, but with a sharp, calculating intensity. Behind him, near the door, a figure in sleek, grey armor who had been standing so still as to be part of the wall, shifted minutely. The guard was a woman, her face stern and unreadable within her helmet, but her hand had drifted to the pommel of her sword.
Chubbs gasped, staring at Lorel as if seeing her for the first time. "The Immortal's son… By the Wheels…"
Lorel felt her cheeks burn. She looked down at her own hands, the memory of Gen's indifferent gaze a colder hurt than any wound. He doesn't even see me, she thought. What use is this title?
The prince recovered swiftly, his smile returning, though it now seemed more polished. "A formidable lineage. I assure you, my interest is purely academic. I seek to inspire my retainers, not to woo a destined bride. My proposal is simpler: let me provide your passage to the Four Kingdoms. My sky-yacht is fast, secure, and will spare Lady Lorel a grueling overland journey. Consider it an investment in witnessing your continued growth."
The excuse was thin, almost transparent. But the offer was solid. Baili assessed it with the cold pragmatism of a general. Safe, fast travel. No resource expenditure. More training time. "We accept," he stated, as if agreeing to a business contract.
It was settled. The prince, beaming, insisted they rest in his manor until departure. As they were shown to separate, lavish rooms, Lorel passed the female guard in the corridor. Their eyes met. The guard's helmet inclined, a barely perceptible nod. Her voice, when it came, was low, metallic, but held a thread of respect. "Well played."
It wasn't about the prince's attention. It was about the fight in the Grove. The Lantern. The stubborn, bloody rise from the dust. It was the first genuine, un-pitied recognition of her strength Lorel had ever received from a stranger. She nodded back, a flicker of new warmth in her chest.
Two days later, they stood in a private courtyard as the prince's transport was led in. It was not a yacht, but a creature: a Two-Headed Sky Bear. It was a massive, shaggy beast the color of a snow-dusted cliff, with two broad, intelligent heads. Around its massive paws, the very moisture in the air crystallized, forming platforms of solid ice upon which it walked, and which would, in flight, become shimmering, weight-bearing discs. An Adult-stage Milky Beast of significant power and prestige.
Chubbs was ecstatic, dancing around at a safe distance. "Magnificent! The ice-walkers! I've only heard tales!"
Lorel felt a ball of anxiety and thrill form in her stomach. This was far beyond the goat-rides of Stonewatch. This was the world of princes and legendary beasts.
Baili observed the creature with the same detached scrutiny he gave everything.
Prince Jou Si was the picture of amiable hospitality. "She is called Frost-Fang. Gentle as a lamb for her handlers. General Mearl will ensure our route is smooth." He gestured to the female guard, now named. General Mearl gave a sharp, military bow, her grey armor seamless and unadorned, her presence as solid and cool as the stone around them.
They boarded the howdah secured to the bear's broad back. As Frost-Fang rose with a surprising grace, its ice-pads crackling into being beneath it, Stonewatch fell away below them. Chubbs chattered to the prince. Baili looked ahead, already strategizing for the kingdom to come. Lorel watched the shrinking mountains, her hand resting on the medallion at her belt.
The tournament was behind them. They were now in the game of thrones.