Lyra hated mornings.
Especially ones that involved saddling up beside a walking funeral with a crown.
The courtyard buzzed with false calm. Servants murmured. Armor clicked. The sky was overcast, like even the weather didn't believe in this mission.
She stretched, yawning, half-armored, fully annoyed. Her patched coat fluttered as she stepped into the yard.
Kaal was already mounted, dark horse and darker expression. He looked like a statue they'd forgotten to dust.
"You're cheerful," she said, tugging on her gloves. "Did they not put enough poison in your breakfast?"
"You're late," he replied, without looking at her.
She swung into the saddle with a grin. "Had to say goodbye to the rats. They were emotional."
He said nothing.
Not even a twitch of the mouth.
She eyed him sideways. "Tough crowd."
Earlier, Queen Mair had bid them farewell in the palace's shadowed hall.
No hugs. No tearful speeches. Just a final command disguised as well-wishing.
She touched Kaal's shoulder, brief, practiced. "Return alive," she said. "Preferably whole."
To Lyra, she offered only a nod. And a warning: "He can be a lot more than you think. Don't fail."
Then she turned and walked away, already thinking of other things.
Lyra had watched her go, silent.
Mothers were strange creatures.
Two guards waited at the gate, blank-faced. An aide clutched scrolls, expression neutral, already regretting his life choices. Their route was masked as a routine border inspection.
In truth, they were vanishing.
The palace gates creaked open.
The city beyond stirred. Merchants dragged carts into place. Footsteps echoed on cobblestone. A few bowed. Most just stared.
Lyra leaned closer. "Think they know?"
Kaal didn't turn. "Know what?"
"That you're chasing a myth."
He answered after a pause. "They think I'm going to be healed."
"Same thing."
By midday, the city had given way to open hills and creeping trees. The road narrowed. Pine needles dusted the trail.
The Zmrylian Mountains loomed ahead, grey teeth tearing into cloud.
Lyra squinted. "Picturesque. In a soul-crushing way."
Kaal finally spoke. "You've been out here before?"
"Close enough to regret it. Never long enough to learn my lesson."
"Yet you've returned."
She glanced at him, calculating. "I have a thing for bad ideas."
He didn't respond. Just stared ahead.
"You think that's what this is?" she pressed. "A bad idea?"
He didn't blink. "I think I was meant to die in that bed. Now I'm not."
"Wow." She gave a low whistle. "Inspirational. I'm moved."
They moved slower now, the road tightening into a forest trail that wound between gnarled trunks and slick stone. The Zmrylian Mountains loomed nearer, hulking shapes veiled in stubborn mist.
Lyra glanced up at the grey peaks. "Lovely vacation spot. You get a group rate for death quests?"
Kaal, riding beside her, didn't look up. "No."
She clicked her tongue. "You're terrible at banter."
"I wasn't trying."
"Even worse."
"Do you really think this is a bad idea?" Kaal asked after a while.
Lyra shrugged. "I think you're someone who got tired of fighting but couldn't bring himself to stop. So you let someone else decide your end."
His jaw tensed. "You don't know me."
"Not yet," she said, spurring her horse ahead. "But we've got plenty of road for that."
That night, they camped beneath skeletal trees. The guards stayed distant. Kaal read by firelight, pale fingers tracing the margins of a worn book. But even the flames didn't seem to warm him.
Lyra tossed stones into the dark, hitting nothing.
"That sound's annoying," Kaal said, eyes on the page.
"I'm aware," she replied. "I'm cultivating atmosphere."
He didn't look up. "Do you ever sleep?"
"I nap. Emotionally."
He closed the book, fingers lingering on the cover. "Healthy."
She shrugged. "Says the prince who barely survived death and immediately decided to hike up a haunted mountain."
He didn't rise to it. Just watched the fire flicker.
"Why didn't you escape?" he said at last.
She met his gaze.
"Curiosity."
"That's not an answer."
She gave a lazy smile. "No. But it's the one you're getting."
They stared at each other across the flames.
"I wanted to see," she added quietly, "what kind of prince lets a stranger carry his survival."
Kaal's eyes met hers. Cold. Still.
"I didn't choose you."
She didn't blink. "No. But you didn't stop it, either."
Kaal didn't flinch.
But he didn't speak again.
And far off in the trees, something shifted.