"Harrin," Ardin said slowly. "Look at the sky. Above the east tower."
The servant leaned toward the window and squinted.
"...It's a clear morning, Young Master."
"Nothing else?"
"Should there be?"
Ardin said nothing.
Across from him, Gelepttin let out a small, bitter laugh.
"He can't see it. None of them can." The creature folded its tiny arms. "Only the ones who have been on the other side."
The other side.
A gray sky. A notebook. A question.
Ardin's chest tightened.
"You talk as if I've been there."
"You talk as if you haven't."
The carriage rolled through the iron gates of the Vale estate. Guards bowed. Servants lined the path. Everything was exactly as it should be, and yet Ardin felt like a guest walking into someone else's home.
"Hide me," Gelepttin said suddenly.
"What?"
"Your coat. Now."
"A moment ago you were worth two kingdoms."
"And now I am worth being *alive*. Coat!"
Ardin opened his coat. The creature jumped in, complained about the smell, and went quiet.
Almost quiet.
"Your arms," Ardin whispered as the carriage slowed. "The stitches. Who did that to you?"
For a long moment, there was no answer.
Then, muffled against his chest:
"...A doctor."
The word came out flat. Too flat.
"He wanted to know what was inside."
Ardin swallowed. "And what was inside?"
A small, hollow laugh.
"Someone the whole world agreed to forget."
The tiny body against his chest was trembling. Ardin did not know why, but his hand moved on its own, resting lightly over the coat.
The trembling stopped.
Neither of them said a word about it.
Then the carriage door opened.
Sunlight poured in, and with it, a familiar voice.
"Brother. You're back early."
Lucan Vale stood at the bottom of the steps, hands clasped behind his back. The eldest son. The heir. The one whose smile had never once been out of place.
He was the one who had found the potion. The one who had told Ardin about the lake. The one who had said, so gently, *wouldn't you like to remember?*
"Lucan," Ardin greeted him.
"You look pale." His brother stepped closer, eyes moving carefully across Ardin's face. Not like a brother searching for illness. Like a scholar reading a result.
"So?"
That same smile.
"Did it work?"
Inside the coat, tiny fingers gripped Ardin's shirt.
A whisper, so soft that only he could hear it.
"Lie."
Ardin's heartbeat was loud in his ears.
Above the east tower, the crack was still there. A little longer than before.
He looked his brother in the eyes.
And smiled back.
"No," he said. "I didn't see anything at all."
Lucan's smile did not change.
But for the first time in his life, Ardin noticed something.
His brother did not look relieved.
He looked disappointed.