Aroha and Zhiyi left the Croft Laboratorium with disappointment clinging to them like a damp cloth. It was not the loud kind of disappointment. There were no raised voices, no sharp glances exchanged in frustration. It was quieter than that. Heavier. The kind that sank into the chest and stayed there, settling behind the ribs, slowing each breath just enough to be noticed.
Vela felt it too.
She remained standing at the entrance long after the girls had disappeared into the curve of the corridor, her hands folded at her waist, posture composed as always. Her expression betrayed nothing, but inside, she turned the moment over and over again. Healing the mythical creatures would have been a lesson unlike any other. Creatures demanded a different kind of attentiveness. Their bodies followed rules that did not always align with human anatomy. Bone density varied. Muscle layers overlapped in unfamiliar ways. Organs adapted to environments humans could not survive in.
It would have been a powerful demonstration.
But perhaps it was better this way.
Ara had insisted that the girls eat before leaving. He did not phrase it as a suggestion. Servants were already moving by the time the words left his mouth, trays appearing as if summoned by will alone. Neither Aroha nor Zhiyi protested. They had not eaten since the previous day, and the morning had already demanded too much from them.
Breakfast passed in near silence.
The food was good. Too good. Rich bread still warm from the oven, fruit sliced with unnecessary precision, steaming tea that filled the air with calming herbs. It should have felt comforting. Instead, it felt like an apology they had not asked for.
When they finally stepped outside, the capital greeted them with sound and light. The sun was already climbing, casting gold across tiled roofs and pale stone streets. Merchants were arranging goods, voices overlapping in cheerful chaos. Bells rang somewhere in the distance. Carriages rolled past, wheels striking cobblestone in a steady rhythm. The city was awake and unapologetically alive.
Ara and Vela both suggested guards.
Once politely.
Then firmly.
The capital was not Juza. It was larger, denser, filled with eyes that lingered too long and ears that listened too closely. But the girls refused. They did not argue loudly. They simply said no, together, with an understanding that had been forged long before words were necessary.
At Juza, they walked freely. No escorts. No watchful presence hovering at their backs. The thought of being followed everywhere felt suffocating, like exchanging one form of control for another.
To Zhiyi, alone time meant being with her sister without interruptions. Just the two of them, side by side, like they used to be before the world demanded so much of them.
To Aroha, alone time meant something else entirely. It meant distance from everyone, especially her sister. It meant silence. It meant being temporarily released from expectation.
Her head throbbed with a dull, persistent ache. Not sharp enough to be debilitating, but constant enough to wear her down. Losing control earlier had shaken her more than she wanted to admit. So had been surrounded by people for so long. The capital pressed in on her senses, every sound louder than necessary, and every movement demanding attention.
Still, Zhiyi did not let her out of her sight. Not after what had happened.
They walked without direction, letting the streets decide where they went. Market stalls split into walkways. Fabrics fluttered overhead. The scent of baked goods mingled with metal and dust and perfume. Children darted between adults, laughter trailing behind them like echoes.
"This might be nice," Zhiyi said at last, glancing around. "A little tour."
Aroha responded with a sound that could not quite be called agreement, but it was close enough. The alternative was returning to Renoff Manor alone, and the thought alone made her stomach twist. So she stayed. Walked beside her sister. Her expression remained neutral, her shoulders tense, but she did not pull away.
Zhiyi took that as a victory.
They continued in silence for a while. Zhiyi let it stretch, understanding that forcing conversation would only push Aroha further inward. But she kept watching her. The way her gaze never lingered on anything for long. The way her jaw remained set, as if she were constantly bracing for impact.
And then the realisation struck her with uncomfortable clarity. She could not remember the last time Aroha had smiled. Not the sharp, fleeting smirk that appeared when she was being clever. Not the dangerous glint in her eyes when she was about to do something reckless. A real smile. One that softened her face. One that came without armour.
Laughter felt even more distant. Years, perhaps. That would not do.
"How about we try something fun?" Zhiyi said suddenly.
Aroha stopped walking.
She turned slowly, irritation flickering across her face like a warning flare. Zhiyi knew that look well. Cheerfulness unsettled her sister. Joy felt like a threat to something fragile she was guarding fiercely.
Fun meant contests. It meant movement and noise and effort. It meant being present in her body when all Aroha wanted was to disappear into herself.
"What do you have in mind?" Aroha asked, voice flat.
In her head, she was already retreating, imagining a place far from cities and obligations. Somewhere dark and quiet. Somewhere, she could vanish when the world became too loud. The thought brought comfort, and with it, a familiar unease.
"A horse race," Zhiyi said. "Five miles."
That got her attention. It was the one thing Aroha never refused. Riding was instinct to her. The connection between her body and a horse felt effortless, almost sacred. She moved with them rather than commanding them. It was also the one thing Zhiyi struggled to beat her at, no matter how hard she tried. Aroha saw through the suggestion immediately. Zhiyi was giving her the advantage. That did not mean she would hold back. She never did.
Still, racing through the capital was another matter. Women here were expected to be graceful, controlled. Riding was acceptable. Racing was not. Galloping through public streets would earn more than a few scandalised looks. The thought sent a thrill through her chest. Breaking rules had always been tempting. Breaking them publicly was intoxicating.
Consequences barely crossed her mind. She was a Renoff. A pure blood at that. Hero and Miya Renoff's daughter. Names like theirs bent laws into suggestions. But neither of them relied on that. They never had. They would face whatever came later.
"Do not think because you win most of the time that this will be easy," Zhiyi said, eyes bright. "Today feels different. I can feel it. This is the day I finally crush you."
Aroha scoffed. "Like you ever could."
Then she paused, brows knitting together.
"But where are we getting horses?" she asked. "We left them behind."
Their mounts were still at the manor. They had gone to the Healers' Nest on foot before dawn, sneaking out to avoid waking anyone. Even now, Aroha bristled at the memory. The idea of being followed everywhere was exhausting. Why could nothing ever be simple?
Zhiyi did not answer immediately. She smiled instead. That smile. The one that meant trouble. Aroha followed her gaze. Guards lined the street not far away, their horses tethered neatly, polished tack catching the sunlight. Strong, well-trained animals. Alert. Restless. Understanding dawned. Aroha felt something in her chest loosen. Just a little.
"You are unbelievable," she said.
Zhiyi shrugged. "Borrowing is not stealing."
"It is absolutely stealing."
"Only temporarily."
They exchanged a look. Then both of them laughed. Not loudly. Not freely. But it was real, and for just a moment, the weight lifted.
Oh.
This was going to be fun.Top of Form