The world bled from the deep indigo of pre-dawn into a pale, watercolour grey. The only sounds were the steady clop-clop of the demon horse's hooves, the soft creak of the Blackwood carriage, and the whisper of the wind through the tall, wild grasses flanking the rough road.
The village had long since vanished behind a fold of hills, swallowed by the landscape of their past.
Inside the carriage, silence reigned, thick and uncomfortable. Lysara and Mira sat on the padded bench at the front, their bodies swaying in unison with the carriage's motion.
Mira had claimed the spot directly behind Eis, her hand occasionally reaching forward to rest on his shoulder, a gesture of connection and possession.
Lysara, on the other side, watched the waking world with a pensive expression, her thoughts seemingly far away.
Kaela sat alone in the flatbed behind them, her back against a bundled bedroll, knees drawn to her chest. She stared out at the receding scenery, her face a mask of quiet melancholy.
Eis, guiding the horse with a light touch, felt the weight of the silence more than the weight of the reins. The puzzle of his sister gnawed at him, an itch he couldn't scratch.
He replayed every interaction since the decision to leave, every word, every glance. But the answer remained elusive, locked behind Kaela's downcast eyes and forced smiles.
Eventually, he gave up, surrendering to the rhythm of the journey, and turned the carriage north.
Hours bled into one another. The sun climbed, blazed, and then began its descent, painting the sky in fiery hues before surrendering to twilight. As full darkness fell, Eis did not stop.
Instead, he pulled a heavy, treated Tier 2 beast-hide from storage and, with practised efficiency, draped it over the carriage frame, creating a makeshift, enclosed shelter against the night chill and any prying eyes.
Securing the hide with leather straps, he climbed back to the driver's perch and urged the demon horse onward. The creature's eyes glowed faintly in the dark, seeing the path where Eis saw only shadows.
After several more hours of steady travel, he judged the horse needed rest. Guiding the carriage off the road into a small, sheltered clearing, he secured the reins and ducked inside the hide-covered cabin.
A soft, warm darkness greeted him, filled with the gentle, rhythmic breathing of his three women. They were already asleep, nestled together on the padded bench and bedrolls.
With a quiet sigh, Eis found a space among them, the day's tensions momentarily forgotten in the simple need for rest, waiting for the golden morning light to wake him.
Ugh. Cold.
A chill breeze, sharp and unexpected, slithered under the beast-hide and brushed his skin. Eis's eyes snapped open. It was still dark, the pre-dawn hour when the world holds its breath.
He immediately felt the space beside him was empty. His gaze swept the dim interior Lysara and Mira were there, but Kaela was gone.
A bolt of worry, sharp and clear, shot through him. He was outside in an instant, the cold air biting through his tunic.
His eyes scanned the clearing, and he found her. She was lying on a large, flat rock at the edge of the trees, staring up at the fading stars, her form a pale silhouette against the dark stone.
"Kaela," he said, his voice low but carrying across the quiet space. He watched her for a few seconds, seeing the slight tremble in her shoulders that wasn't from the cold.
"You shouldn't be out here. It's dangerous."
"Okay," she whispered, her voice thin. "Go inside. I'll be there shortly."
He didn't move. Instead, he walked over and sat down on the cold rock beside her.
"Okay, talk to me, my little baby. What's wrong?" He turned to face her.
"What did I do? I'll take any punishment." He opened his arms wide, a familiar invitation for the slap or pinch he expected, hoping to provoke any reaction other than this hollow quiet.
But no blow came. Instead, her head fell forward to rest against his chest. A tremor ran through her, and then he felt it, the warm, silent flood of tears soaking through his tunic.
"E…is. Eis," she choked out, the words breaking on sobs she could no longer contain. "I can't… I can't give you a child. I know you made me your first mate, trusting me with your seed… but I can't. I don't know what happened. We should have listened to you and found you a slender woman. Now… now I'm just a burden. Just find a new first wife. I'm useless."
The confession poured out of her, a torrent of fear and heartbreak she had been carrying alone. Each word was a knife twisting in Eis's gut. He was stunned, the puzzle finally solving itself in the most painful way possible. He held her as she cried, her body shaking with the force of her sorrow, her tears leaving dark stains on his skin. He said nothing, just let her empty the well of despair.
After several minutes, her sobs subsided into shaky hiccups, then into exhausted silence. He let out a long, slow breath, the mist curling in the cold air.
"Are you okay now?" he asked softly.
She nodded against his chest, the crying finally spent.
"A child is not the reason I made you my first wife, Kaela," he said, his voice firm and gentle. "I made you my first because I love you, and you are the most important. I will never leave you because of a child."
"But… your most potent seed is now gone," she mumbled, her voice thick. "It will be harder to have children in the future."
"Trust me," he said, a hint of his old confidence returning. "It will be very easy. Plus, I want us to live our lives for now and worry about children later. I mean, you are over twenty now, and you are Tier Two."
"Hey," she said, a faint, watery spark of her old self returning as she lifted her head. He could see her red-rimmed eyes in the dim light, but the crushing despair was gone, replaced by fragile hope. "That's considered a talent."
"Well, your little brother is already Tier Three," he said, a provocative grin spreading across his face. "Don't you want to surpass me before you have a child?"
"What? Really?" Her eyes went wide with confusion and shock. "You are already Tier Three? That's impossible! You should have exploded!"
"Well, I am naturally a bigger talent," he teased, the grin widening.
A new light, one of determination, kindled in her eyes. "Then… I will strive to be stronger than you. Then I'll have your baby." The resolve faltered for a second. "But… are you sure you still want me as your first wife?"
"Yes," he said, without a moment's hesitation. "I am very sure." He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, feeling their softness, tasting the salt of her tears. It was a kiss of promise, of reassurance. When he pulled back, he added, "If you surpass me by one tier, I will give you a child without a second thought."
"Really?"
"Yes. Really." He looked at her, his expression softening. "Now, should you be sitting there?"
A ghost of a real smile touched her lips. "I'm sorry, husband." In a fluid, familiar motion, she shifted to sit on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in the crook of his shoulder. The warmth of her body seeped into his, banishing the chill of the night and the chill that had been between them.
"That's more like my little baby," he murmured into her hair.
"Ugh!" He let out an exaggerated, fake grunt as he felt a sharp, familiar pinch on his waist.
"That should remind you who is bigger here," she said, her voice muffled but carrying its old, playful edge.
A wave of profound relief washed over him. He tilted her chin up, his heart full. "My sister is back," he whispered, before his lips found hers again, this time in a kiss that held no sadness, only the warmth of reconciliation and the fierce, unbreakable bond between them.