Kael's boots crunched softly against the thin layer of snow as he walked along the cobblestone path, each step echoing faintly through the stillness of the estate grounds. Frost clung to the edges of the stones, catching what little light remained and dulling it into pale reflections.
Mael walked beside him, her beige coat pulled tight, a red scarf wrapped snugly around her neck. The fabric fluttered lightly with each step, a streak of color against the greys around them.
A few steps ahead, small bursts of powdered snow leapt into the air as Cuddles bounded and rolled through it, blissfully oblivious to the cold or anything beyond his own excitement.
Mael smiled and lifted a finger, pointing out across the open stretch.
"This is the main lawn. During the summer, Darian and I used to get up to all kinds of shenanigans here."
Kael followed the line of her gesture. Now it was nothing more than a flat snowfield, though faint rises beneath the snow hinted at flower beds waiting for warmer days, where color would eventually return.
"No statues?" Kael asked, dryly.
She flashed him a grin, and they continued down the path.
With nothing planned for the day, Kael had wanted to do what he always did in unfamiliar territory, walk it, map it, commit paths and landmarks to memory. Just as he had done with Velthoria. He had invited Mael along simply because she knew the estate inside and out, and she had accepted without hesitation. Cuddles, of course, had followed without needing to be asked.
What he had expected to be a casual walk, marked by brief mentions of important places, had slowly turned into something else entirely. A procession of memories. Mael drifted from story to story, recalling summers, arguments, laughter, moments long past, her voice carrying warmth even in the cold.
Kael listened in silence. If nothing else, it gave him a clearer sense of the Claymores themselves, and he did not mind her rambling.
'Does she realize how much she resembles her father?'
He sighed inwardly as Mael launched into yet another memory, already halfway to the next before finishing the last.
They came to a stop in front of a lone building at the very edge of the Claymore estate, its silhouette standing apart from the rest of the property.
Mael opened her mouth to speak, then paused and glanced back over her shoulder. She patted her legs.
"Cuddles, come."
Far off, a small golden head popped up from the snow, followed by a series of awkward, determined leaps as Cuddles tore free of whatever drift he had buried himself in and started charging toward them.
Mael tapped her legs faster, and for some reason Cuddles started sprinting harder, as if the greatest bone in existence awaited him if he just reached her in time. Snow sprayed wildly behind him as he picked up speed.
He crossed the distance in moments and slammed straight into Kael's leg, using him as a brake, before bouncing off and immediately resuming his apparently endless campaign against the snow, rolling and digging as if nothing else in the world mattered.
Mael turned back toward the building.
"This was actually the first house my parents ever bought," she said. "Long before they had the money they do now."
When Kael had first noticed the structure from Mael's room, he had wondered why something so ordinary still stood this close to the estate's heart. Now it made sense. They had left it untouched not out of neglect, but intention, as a reminder of how far they had come, and of who they had been before. It fit the Claymores almost too well.
"Mom even said we could stay here if we wanted some privacy," Mael added with a soft laugh. "I've never heard her say that before."
She hesitated, then continued, half-thinking aloud.
"It has two bedrooms and everything. Maybe we should stay here, just to escape them—"
Her teeth showed as an image of her mother flashed through her mind.
"…Actually, let's not do that."
She shook her head, slipped off her shoes, and muttered under her breath,
"Curse your schemes, Mom."
The two of them wandered through the building like tourists, Mael pointing things out here and there as they went. In essence it was nothing more than an ordinary house, but the care in its upkeep made it clear it meant something to them.
They stepped back onto the cobblestone path once more.
"And that pretty much sums up the yard," Mael said lightly. "The place is only around forty years old, so it's not as old or mysterious as the Valthorne mansion. Still, I hope you found something interesting at least."
She bent down and scooped up Cuddles.
"It was," Kael replied, fastening another button on his coat.
Mapping the property had taken far less effort than Velthoria itself. The layout was straightforward, the grounds contained, and the paths easy to remember.
"That only leaves the inside," Mael said with a smile.
They kicked the snow from their boots against the doorframe before stepping in. Mael set Cuddles down.
He immediately bolted, entering a full sprint straight into the mansion, snow flinging loose from his fur with every stride.
Mael froze.
Then she screeched, realizing her mistake far too late.
"Don't jump onto the couch and DON'T jump onto my bed!"
Her voice echoed down the halls.
Kael simply loosened his coat and draped it over his shoulders.
They passed through living rooms, dining halls, and the kitchen before stopping briefly at the threshold of a ballroom, crystal chandeliers spilling light across the open space.
Kael wasn't surprised. Ballrooms were rarely about dancing. They were more for polishing an image and letting it reflect back at others.
"Do you know how to dance?"
Mael asked, absently.
Kael's gaze dipped from the chandeliers.
"I don't."
"Lucky." She took a bite of an apple. "Every time I'm in here, I get a bad taste in my mouth."
She rolled the apple between her fingers.
"When I'm here to dance, it feels less like feeling and more like performance."
Her eyes never met his.
"Let's go to the library."
The library was immaculate. Shelves lined every wall, and even more stood in neat rows through the center, heavy with books.
"Here," she said, gesturing around them. "I've read more books than most people ever see."
She smiled faintly.
"I've both laughed and cried here."
Then she laughed again, softer this time.
Kael walked over and let his gaze drift across the shelves. The sheer volume alone was impressive, but what truly caught his interest was the quality. He had been to larger libraries before, public ones filled wall to wall with books, yet those had always felt shallow. They brushed the surface of subjects, and created more questions than they answered.
Here, he didn't even need to open a book to tell the difference.
"Am I allowed to come in here?"
He asked, flipping a few pages.
Mael stared at him for a moment in disbelief, then a bubble of laughter escaped her.
"Of course," she said. "Come here anytime, whether I'm with you or not." She waved a hand. "Actually, I insist. Maybe then I'll finally have someone to complain to about the mountain of boring books I've read in here."
Kael forced himself to stop reading, turned his head toward her, and nodded in response.
The two continued their tour, skipping countless guest rooms, until darkness finally seeped through the windows and they were finished.
Mael let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and collapsed onto her bed.
"I've never noticed how big the house is."
Despite having spent her entire childhood here, the estate had become so normalized that she'd stopped seeing it. Showing it to Kael had forced her to slow down, to really look. She had even stumbled across a room she hadn't known existed.
Kael sat at her vanity, his gaze distant.
By now, he had a complete understanding of the building. Better, even, than some of the housekeepers who had worked here their entire lives, especially considering he had ventured as far as the mote vault.
He spun the chair around to face her.
"Do you sell the motes," he asked, "or why keep so many?"
Mael turned her head slightly.
"Hmm…" she murmured, thinking.
"I guess we keep them the same way mortals keep gold." She tapped her chin. "Just like gold, a mote's value never truly disappears. If Mindstones lose value, motes rise to compensate, so in theory they always retain the same worth."
She leaned back on her hands.
"Well, they can change in value," she admitted, "but never below a fixed baseline. If a war breaks out, their value rises. When it ends, it might fall again, but never below what it was before." She shrugged. "So I guess you could call them a sort of failsafe."
Kael leaned back.
It made sense. He had known of the system, understood it even, but he had failed to connect the dots. And while he had no doubt Mael was telling the truth, he was equally certain that the Claymores, much like noble families, would distribute their stored motes to the Luminaires under them if necessity ever demanded it.
A knock sounded at the door, drawing both their attention.
Mael's mother stepped in, carrying a tray with two handmade sandwiches and cups from which steam gently rose.
"You've been so busy today," she said warmly, "I thought I'd bring you something to eat."
Mael sighed aloud and flopped back onto her bed.
Kael stood and walked over, taking the tray from her hands.
"Thank you, Ms. Claymore."
She gave him a warm smile before closing the door quietly behind her.
"Stop with the formalities. Veyra works just fine,"
Mael said, shooting Kael a look.
Kael walked over and handed her a sandwich. Mael reached up and took it.
"But I'm your classmate from the capital," Kael replied as he sat down at the vanity.
Mael sighed again, louder this time, clearly aimed at him.
"Whatever."
She bit into the sandwich.
They ate in relative quiet, drifting through mundane talk, Kael occasionally asking about her family and deliberately choosing the wrong side of every opinion just to irritate her.
Kael lifted his cup and took a sip of tea.
He usually liked tea.
Tonight, it tasted wrong.
Behind the blindfold, his gaze remained cold, fixed on the thought that all of Velthoria was already combing the city, breath held and hands trembling, eager for the moment they could wrap their fingers around his throat.