Chapter 19 – Leaving The Undercity
The city felt different when you walked it with a purpose.
The last time I'd come out, it had been for food, for curiosity, for "rest day" freedom. This time, every step was measured.
The Evening Light inn was in the same place, of course. Same faded sun sign. Same slightly crooked step at the entrance. Inside, the air still smelled of smoke and stew.
The innkeeper looked up as I pushed the door open.
Her eyes widened a little.
"You came back," she said.
"Yes," I replied.
She snorted, half-amused, half-surprised.
"Most boys your age don't," she said. "Especially not the ones with clean uniforms."
"Is she still here?" I asked.
"Second floor, end of the hall," the woman said. "Hasn't left much. Keeps checking the door like someone's coming to take the room back."
She paused, then added more softly, "She slept the first day like she hadn't in years. The second, she asked if you were a liar. I told her I didn't know yet."
"Fair," I said.
I climbed the stairs.
The wood creaked under my feet, but less than I expected. At the end of the narrow hallway, a familiar door waited. The number was scratched, the paint worn.
I raised my hand and knocked.
Nothing.
"Valeria," I said. "It's me."
There was a small, sharp intake of breath from the other side. Then the faint scrape of feet on wood, the whisper of fabric.
A long pause.
The lock turned.
The door opened just enough for one eye to look through.
When she saw me, the door opened the rest of the way.
Valeria stood there, cloak thrown over her shoulders again, but differently now. Cleaner. The inn had clearly made her at least wash; her hair, though still uneven, was not as tangled. Her face was still too thin, but there was a little more colour in it.
She looked… less like she would fall over if a breeze tried hard enough.
"You came back," she said.
"Apparently that's today's theme," I replied.
Her fingers tightened on the edge of the door.
"Part of me was sure," she said quietly, "that either you'd forget, or change your mind… or that this was some long, complicated joke."
"I don't like complicated jokes," I said. "Simple ones are easier."
Her lips twitched.
"That sounds like something someone who likes complicated jokes would say."
"Do you want to stay in this room forever?" I asked.
"No."
"Then you'll have to trust me a bit more."
She exhaled through her nose.
"What's the plan, noble boy?" she asked. "Because I doubt the city sent you to move beggars into nicer inns."
"My father sent a carriage," I said. "And Alice."
She blinked.
"…Who," she said slowly, "is Alice?"
"A maid from my household," I said. "She's waiting with the carriage at the academy gate. My father agreed to take you in as a ward, if you want it."
Valeria stared at me.
She didn't blink.
"Ward," she repeated. "As in… fed, clothed, kept indoors?"
"Yes."
"In a viscount's house."
"Yes."
Her hand went to her mouth.
A laugh escaped.
It was small, brittle, and cracked halfway through, like she wasn't sure if it was allowed.
"Is this a fever?" she murmured. "Did I die in that alley and this is some cruel afterlife?"
"If it was, I'd expect more dramatic lighting," I said.
She lowered her hand.
"Why would your father agree?" she asked. "He doesn't know me. For all he knows, I've stolen from his trade routes. Or worse."
"He said I have a troublesome habit of picking up strays," I answered. "And that he trusts my judgment."
"That's even worse," she muttered. "Putting faith in a twelve-year-old."
"Welcome to nobility," I said dryly.
Silence stretched.
Her eyes moved to the window.
Out there was the city that had carved her down to this.
In here was a room that only existed for three nights.
Between them stood a boy with a uniform and a key to somewhere else.
"…If I come with you," she said slowly, "and they decide they don't want me—"
"Then we'll deal with that when it happens," I cut in. "But right now, if you stay in this city, there's only one kind of future waiting for you. You know that better than I do."
Her jaw clenched.
Her fingers, at her sides, curled in the fabric of the cloak.
"…You're right," she said. "I do."
She looked at the bed. At the shelf. At the space she'd spent three days in, probably counting the cracks in the ceiling.
Then she took a small, steady breath.
"Fine," she said. "I'll come. But if this is some trick, I'm stabbing something."
"Reasonable," I said. "Try not to stab Alice."
"Who is she to you?" Valeria asked.
"Someone who could disarm you before you got close," I said honestly. "And then scold me for letting you try."
"…Interesting."
She glanced around the room one last time.
She didn't have anything to pack.
No bags. No trunk. No box of treasured things. Just the cloak on her shoulders, the dress she wore, and the memory of an alley.
She stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind her.
The key, she left on the table.
"Let's go," she said.
***
The streets between the inn and the academy gate didn't feel particularly long before.
Now, every corner felt like a test.
Valeria walked beside me, hood up, hands hidden in her sleeves. Every time a guard passed, her shoulders tightened. Every time someone looked at her a second too long, her fingers twitched as if reaching for a blade she no longer had.
"You can still turn back," I said once, when we paused to let a cart rumble by.
She didn't look at me.
"If I turn back," she answered, "the only thing waiting is the alley again. And the bowl. And the posters. And the fear."
She glanced at me then, just a flick of her eyes.
"And your ridiculous face will be stuck in my head, too," she added. "I'd rather not spend the next few years wondering what would've happened if I'd followed."
"Understandable," I said.
"You're not going to say something noble and dramatic?" she asked. "Like 'I'll never abandon you' or 'trust me completely'?"
"I'm twelve," I said. "I'm just trying not to trip."
A small sound came from under her hood. A not-quite-laugh.
We kept walking.
***
The academy gate came into view, tall and solid, banners fluttering slightly on the walls. Students in uniform passed through in small groups. A few merchants waited with carts. A pair of knights stood to the side, watching.
And the Milton carriage.
It waited a little off to the side, near the wall. Crest on the door. Horses shifting their weight patiently. The driver on the seat, reins in hand.
Alice stood beside it, straight-backed, hands folded neatly in front of her.
Her eyes went to me first.
Then to Valeria.
They sharpened.
"Erynd," she said, inclining her head. "You brought her."
"As promised," I said.
Valeria stopped a few steps behind me.
She looked at the carriage like it might bite.
Alice stepped forward, stopping at a polite distance.
Up close, Valeria's state was impossible to miss.
Thin. Tired. Wary.
But Alice's expression didn't twist or turn cold. It stayed steady.
"You are Valeria?" she asked.
Valeria's chin lifted a fraction.
"…Yes," she said.
"Alice," I said, "this is the girl I wrote to Father about. Valeria, this is Alice. She's… complicated to explain. Think 'terrifyingly competent' and you'll be close."
Alice's mouth twitched once. That was her version of amusement.
"I have been instructed," she said, "to escort you to the Milton estate as a ward of the house. You will be provided food, clothing, and a room. Once there, the Viscount will determine an appropriate role and training, if you wish to stay."
"'If'," Valeria repeated.
"The Viscount does not keep prisoners," Alice said simply. "If you choose to leave later, you will not be chained."
Valeria stared at her.
Then at me.
Then at the crest on the carriage door.
"…This is real," she whispered.
"Yes," I said.
Her legs suddenly looked unsteady.
For a moment, I thought she'd sit down right there on the ground. Instead, she reached out and grabbed my sleeve, fingers curling in the fabric, just for balance.
"You're shaking," I said.
"I'm trying not to run," she answered through her teeth. "I don't know whether it's away or toward."
I lowered my voice.
"Do you want this?"
She closed her eyes for a heartbeat.
Images flashed behind them that I couldn't see.
A marble hall.
A warehouse.
A smoke-stained room.
An alley with a cracked bowl.
Then she opened them again, and her grip tightened.
"I don't know if I deserve it," she said. "But I… want to try."
"That's enough," I said.
Alice watched us in silence, weighing, judging, then nodded as if something had been confirmed.
"There is no need to decide your worth today," she said. "For now, you only have to get in the carriage."
Valeria let out a shaky breath that might have been a laugh.
"Bossy," she muttered. "Just like him."
"I will take that as a compliment," Alice said.
Valeria let go of my sleeve, fingers lingering for a second on the fabric, then dropping.
She took one step toward the carriage.
Then another.
At the door, she paused and turned back.
Her hood had slipped back a little, enough that I could see her eyes clearly. They were still tired. Still ringed with shadows.
But they weren't empty.
"Erynd," she said.
"Yes?"
"If your father thinks I'm too much trouble and throws me out," she said, "I'm coming back to haunt you."
"Fair," I said. "If he does that, I'll help."
She blinked.
Then, to my surprise, she smiled.
It wasn't big.
It wasn't bright.
But it was real.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "For… hearing me."
"You were too loud to ignore," I said.
She snorted, then shook her head and climbed into the carriage.
Alice moved to follow, then stopped and looked back at me.
"You did well, young master," she said.
"It felt like I made it up as I went," I said.
"That is often how 'doing well' feels," she replied.
She placed a hand briefly over her heart in a formal gesture.
"I will write once we arrive," she added. "Take care of yourself. Try not to add three more strays before midterm."
"No promises," I said.
She sighed, the long-suffering kind I'd heard a thousand times before, then climbed into the carriage and closed the door.
The driver snapped the reins.
The horses started forward.
The carriage rolled past me, wheels clattering softly on the stones. As it passed, I caught one last glimpse through the small window.
Valeria sat on the bench, cloak still wrapped around her, both hands clutching the edge of the seat like it might vanish. Her eyes were wide, fixed on the world outside.
When she saw me looking, she raised one hand, hesitated, then gave a small, uncertain wave.
I raised mine back.
Then the carriage turned the corner, and they were gone.
The gate remained.
The city remained.
[ System ]
[ Route Character – Valeria ]
[ Original Future Title: "Underworld Queen" – DISCARDED ]
[ New Title In Progress: "Valeria, Ward of Milton" ]
[ Flag: "She Has Somewhere To Return To" – Acquired ]
The wind tugged at my sleeves.
For a moment, the empty space the carriage had left felt strange. Like a piece of the future had just been moved somewhere else.
Rion appeared at my side, breathless.
"Did I miss it?" he panted. "I wanted to see the dramatic goodbye carriage moment—ah, it's gone."
"You did," I said.
He groaned.
"Of course," he muttered. "So? How was it? Tears? Dramatic speeches? Confessions of eternal loyalty?"
"She threatened to haunt me if things went badly," I said.
He paused.
"…That sounds about right, actually."
We stood there a moment longer, watching the empty road.
Then I turned back toward the academy.
Divination classes waited.
So did Lyra.
So did Tamara.
And somewhere, on a road heading away from the city, so did a girl who had once sat in an alley and whispered "please help me" to no one.
This time, someone had heard.