The next morning, the air around Brimhold was fresh with the scent of wet soil, a storm having passed overnight. The house sat outside the village, still leaning awkwardly on one damaged leg, smoke stains marking its side like scars.
Ash stood with his hands shoved into his pockets, surveying the market that sprawled across Brimhold's central square. His black eyes flicked from stall to stall, analyzing. "We'll need metal sheets, welding salts, stabilizer coils… and a hundred smaller things these people don't even know they have."
Juliette, walking beside him, glanced at the bustle of villagers hawking fruit, fabrics, and tools. "You make it sound like you're going shopping for groceries."
"Everything's just parts," Ash replied. "Some more useful than others."
Leo stretched his arms lazily, ears twitching as he sniffed the air. "Do you ever stop thinking in blueprints, witch boy?"
Ash didn't answer, already drifting toward a blacksmith's stall stacked with raw ore and bent iron. He began asking sharp, precise questions, his tone flat but relentless. Juliette found herself hovering, watching the way his mind worked. He didn't haggle so much as dissect, stripping the man's knowledge apart until the blacksmith reluctantly admitted he did have a few salvaged engine coils lying around.
When they left the stall, Juliette hugged the bundle of metal to her chest. "You know," she said carefully, "you're not terrible at this. Talking to people, I mean."
Ash gave her a sidelong look. "I wasn't talking. I was extracting information."
She almost laughed, shaking her head. "You really don't see it, do you?"
They wove through the market, Juliette slowing here and there when bright fabrics caught her eye. At one stall, she paused in front of a line of scarves fluttering in the wind. She brushed her ribbon unconsciously, then shook her head and followed Ash again.
By midday, they had a small cart half-filled with scrap metal, coils, and tools. Ash crouched to check each item, arranging them with almost obsessive precision. Juliette leaned against a post, watching him with her arms crossed.
"You really are going to rebuild the whole thing, aren't you?" she asked softly.
Ash didn't look up. "I don't patch things. I fix them so they don't break again." His tone was blunt, but there was something almost personal beneath it , as if he wasn't just talking about the house.
Juliette tilted her head, studying him. "You sound like you've done this before. Fixing things that… aren't supposed to be fixed."
For the first time that day, his hands paused. Then, without looking at her, he went back to stacking the metal.
Juliette didn't press further, but as they pushed the cart back toward the house, she kept glancing at him, a seed of curiosity growing stronger.
Ash crouched under the house, tools scattered around him, muttering curses as sparks spat from a loose panel. The floating home sat grounded at the edge of Brimhold, its once-smooth hum silenced into an awkward, wounded groan.
Juliette stood a little ways back, arms crossed, eyeing the mess. "For something that was supposed to be indestructible, it sure looks… broken."
Ash's head shot out from beneath the house, his black eyes narrowing. "It's not broken. It's temporarily inconvenienced."
Juliette smirked. "That's a very dramatic way of saying broken."
He stuck his tongue out at her before ducking back down. "If you're not going to help, don't talk."
She hesitated a beat, then knelt beside him. "Fine. What do I do?"
There was silence. Then a scoff. "You'll probably break something."
Juliette grabbed one of the smaller tools from the ground and held it up. "I grew up in a castle, not a bubble. I can learn."
Ash peeked at her, his gaze unreadable. Then, with a sigh, he shoved a screwdriver into her hand. "Tighten that bolt. Not too much, or the whole thing explodes."
Her eyes widened. "What—?!"
He grinned. "Kidding."
Juliette gave him a shove on the shoulder. "You're impossible."
"And you're slow," he countered. "Come on, keep up, princess."
For the next hour, the two worked side by side. Ash moved with precise, practiced hands, muttering strange jargon about Flow conduits and pressure seals, while Juliette struggled but stubbornly followed his directions. She fumbled, he teased, but eventually the repairs began to take shape.
At one point, she wiped sweat from her forehead and glanced sideways at him. "You really don't let anyone close, do you?"
Ash's hands stilled for the briefest second. Then he tapped the panel back into place with a bit too much force. "People slow me down."
Juliette tilted her head. "Or maybe you're just scared they'll actually keep up."
He didn't answer that. Instead, he gave her a crooked, boyish grin. "You talk too much."
"Someone has to. You barely say anything."
They locked eyes for a beat, a silent challenge hanging between them, until the panel clicked shut with a sharp snap, breaking the moment. Ash sat back and wiped grease from his fingers onto his shirt.
"There," he said, a childish note of pride in his voice. "Good as new. Almost."
Juliette let out a laugh despite herself. "I'll take 'almost' if it means not crashing again."
Ash leaned back on his hands, looking up at the floating clouds. "Won't happen again. Next time, they won't even scratch us."
"Confident."
"Always." He gave her a sideways glance. "Besides, I've got an assistant now."
Juliette rolled her eyes but felt heat rise to her cheeks. For the first time since leaving the castle, the thought slipped through her mind: maybe she wasn't just a bird in a cage anymore.