Liliana finished tying her hair up, Nemesis slithering up her neck and into the nest made of braids and thick hair to take her typical place. Despite the slowly lowering temperatures outside, the serpent still preferred to be out of her summoning stone and close to Liliana at all times. Liliana was beginning to suspect that Lelantos had been regaling the serpent with tales of assassin attempts in the dark of the night. However, it could also be a result of Nemesis’ own experiences with losing her family, and her wish to not lose her new family in the same way. Whatever the cause, the serpent insisted she be close to Liliana, even if she disliked the cold.

Running her hands over her clothes, Liliana straightened a few pieces. She was in her leathers, a few extra layers added to ward against the growing cold. Her newest tattoo was hidden beneath a furred scarf. For a moment, Liliana met her own eyes in the mirror, eyes that looked far too old to belong in such a young-looking face gazed back at her. Sadness and darkness lurked in the shining blue depths and Liliana dragged her gaze away and stood.

Liliana turned and exited her room in the inn they were staying in. It had taken them three weeks to get to Ariowood, where they had offloaded the prisoners to the city’s jail. Liliana was sure more had been done, but she had neither been invited to listen in nor had she wanted to. Her feelings regarding the prisoners were a confusing mix she didn’t enjoy thinking of. Hate, pity and guilt had twisted together whenever she thought of the residents of Timberborn. Hate, strong and bloodthirsty for what they’d done to innocent, intelligent beings, for the pain they’d caused her precious Bond. Pity for their inevitable deaths, the law was clear what their sentence would be. Guilt for feeling hatred for them, for wishing for their deaths. Guilt for feeling pity for those who had shown no mercy to others, who had let their grief and superstition rule them.

Liliana was glad they weren’t staying at the Wilde’s estate again. After the last assassination attempt had happened under the Wilde’s roof, their party had decided it was a lesser evil to slight the Wilde’s. They’d suffer disgrace as it was for permitting an assassin access to their manor through their unsatisfactory security. Liliana had been assured by Alistair that the minor slight the Rosengardes would suffer for not visiting would be overshadowed by the Count’s ineptitude.

As she hurried down the stairs, hand holding onto the wooden railing even though she had no need for it, Liliana took in the relatively simple nature of the inn. It was made of wood, to no one’s surprise. It had beautiful scenes carved into it. Her own room’s walls were carved to look like a peaceful meadow. The bedframe looked like tree branches and vines, and the lamps had been made to resemble trees with lights hanging off the branches like fruit.

The entire inn was a beautiful work of art, but it still fell short of the majesty she saw daily in her father’s manor. She had a moment of realization as she paused at the foot of the stairs. This inn would’ve filled her with wonder and awe in her past life. It could be compared to the high priced hotels she’d only ever seen on a tv screen or in the pages of a book. But now it seemed pitiful when compared to the luxury she had become accustomed to.

Spoiled, I’ve become spoiled, Liliana thought wryly. She shook her head at herself and continued to the common room of the inn. Several guards were spread around the room, both in plainclothes and in uniform. Alistair and Emyr were sitting at a table towards the back, eating breakfast. Liliana smiled and waved at the guards as she passed, pausing a few times to speak greetings to the ones who called out to her. Eventually, she made her way to the table and slid into the chair next to Alistair, who grumbled but made room for her.

“The guards like you,” Emyr stated.

“Some, yes. They like the game I brought,” Liliana answered, hiding a frown behind a piece of bread she snatched from her brother’s plate. Alistair cried out in protest, but didn’t try to snatch it back. She didn’t tell Emyr that despite the increased amount of time she spent with the guards, some of them still didn’t like her. She was certain the boy knew, with his tendency to lurk around listening in on everyone.

“Get your own food, you glutton!” Alistair tried to beat her thieving hand back as she grabbed another slice of bread from his plate. He was unsuccessful, her Speed far higher than his. Liliana happily munched on her stolen prize as she waved to a server and asked for her own breakfast.

“So, how long will we be staying here?” Liliana asked.

Alistair had been with Amelia when she dropped off the prisoners and talked to the city’s guards and officials. Liliana assumed Emyr had been with him as well. She hadn’t seen him in the group that came to the inn the previous night with her.

“We’ll be here for four days. Amelia and I have a few meetings with the justices to go over evidence and sentencing,” Alistair responded, his voice more subdued at the subject's change.

Liliana could see the dark circles under his eyes hadn’t lifted. He still wasn’t taking any of this well. The weeks they’d traveled with the prisoners couldn’t have made it easier. None of them had interacted with them, but it was impossible to ignore the 67 people they had led to their deaths. Hard to ignore the shouted abuse and insults the prisoners flung at anyone and everyone. Eventually, they had learned who exactly the three teens were and had cursed their names, Alistair more than Liliana or Emyr. Blaming everyone else under the sun except for themselves for the consequences of their own actions.

“Jason told me last time that there is an entertainers’ district here. Performers do shows on the streets daily. Maybe we can take a look?” Liliana offered tentatively.

The serving girl laid a plate and glass before her and Liliana gave her a thankful smile before digging into her own breakfast. Some kind of egg dish with buttered bread and fresh fruit to the side. A test of her drink let her know it was a fruit drink, sweet and refreshing.

“Aren’t the guards supposed to test your food?!” Alistair asked, as she took another bite of her food. Liliana swallowed and waved off his concern.

“Nemesis can smell poisons, and Jason talked to the owner last night. They placed a guard in the kitchen to watch preparations and spot test the foods. I hear it is a rather popular post,” Liliana explained before she filled her mouth with another bite of delicious food. It was almost as good as the food at home, and a hundred times better than camp fare. The eggs had a coating of rich cheese and bits of succulent meat in them, the flavors exploding against her tongue. Liliana hummed happily as she savored the breakfast.

“Watching performers would be enjoyable. Maybe you can even hire some for your birthday.” Emyr turned the conversation away from poisons to lighter topics.

The reminder of Alistair’s upcoming birthday had Liliana almost choking on her food. She had entirely forgotten about his birthday, about any birthday, for that matter. Her memories supplied answers before she could fully reveal her stumble. Alistair was born on the first day of the new year, so his birthday was about a month and a half away. They were well into Ycefall now. Liliana looked at Emyr curiously. His birthday was on the winter solstice, sooner than Alistair’s. Her own birthday was on the 16th of Tyrnings, making her the youngest of the three.

“What about for your birthday, Emyr?” Liliana asked, and Emyr’s eyes widened with something akin to panic.

“I don’t wish for any party on my birthday,” Emyr hastened to reply, as if afraid she’d plan some grand party for him if he didn’t shut down the thought as fast as possible.

Liliana tilted her head and looked to Alistair, who gave her a tired look in response. It seemed she’d accidentally stepped into an old argument. She wasn’t too surprised. Emyr never enjoyed the spotlight, and a birthday party or ball would force him into one. In the game, birthdays usually had some sort of special quest or cut-scenes involved. Though Emyr seemed to always have quests that took him away from his friends on his birthday for some reason or another. Was it because he disliked attention that much?

Was his distaste so strong it changed the formula of the game? Or had that been a hint in the game about Emyr’s personality? The longer Liliana spent in this world, the more she was impressed with the subtle way the game showed off their character’s personalities, even if the real thing wasn’t always entirely accurate to the game representation. But game characters couldn’t grow the same way real people could. They had fixed fates in a game, not like the unlimited potential of real people.

“Alright…” Liliana trailed off, taking another slow bite of her food as Emyr sagged with relief, the feared party idea dead before it could even live.

“So, should we go and see the performers?” Liliana asked before the silence could verge into awkward territory. The boys nodded, but Liliana could tell neither was too excited, each having their mood brought down by one thing or another. Liliana frowned as she finished her food off.

As they stood and got ready to leave, several guards stood and gravitated towards them. Liliana smiled at them. She wasn’t surprised they weren’t allowed to travel the city alone. The assassination attempts were still too fresh, and there was always a chance the prisoners had family in the city who would seek revenge for their relatives. Jason was absent, either to visit his family again or to be with Amelia. Liliana wasn’t sure. As they stepped out into the brisk late fall cold, Liliana tugged her cloak tighter around her.

“Looks like snow,” a guard murmured, looking up at thick cloud covered sky. Liliana blinked in surprise.

Snow? She hadn’t seen snow in a long time. Her family had lived pretty far south, where it snowed maybe one day a year in the late winter if they were lucky. Not that it had mattered. Liliana was trapped in a hospital bed and barred from leaving to play in what little snow would fall. The cold was too much of a risk to her immune system.

She’d known that the Rosengarde territory was northern, though Timberborn had been pretty far south in the territory. As they got closer to the manor and the days ticked closer and closer to true winter, the temperature had dropped steadily until all of their party had needed to dress in thick layers with furred cloaks. None of them had Vitality low enough to be negatively affected by the cold, but it had been noticeable. Liliana just hadn’t realized it was both cold enough, and they were far north enough, that snow was a true possibility. It excited her. She’d get to play in the snow for the first time in so long.

As they set out, Liliana’s curious eyes took in the people of Timberborn and the surrounding buildings eagerly. The people were dressed much the same as them, some bundled tightly against the cold belying a lower Vitality. Children were the most tightly wrapped, their system access still locked because of their ages. But they seemed to feel the cold even less than the adults, their happy laughs and cries filling the air between the sounds of horses and carriages rolling down the street and the shouts of adults. How different this city felt to Timberborn, not just because of the size. It felt far more lively, with children happily cavorting around the streets. How much children could change a place, simply by their presence or lack of.

Liliana pulled her hood up, covering her hair and Nemesis as they walked along. She could feel the serpent’s dislike of the cold, but she seemed to enjoy the heat coming from Liliana’s head well enough. As they walked through the city, Liliana saw general stores, blacksmiths, spell stores, crafts stores. There were far more carpenter and woodworking shops here than in any other city, to no surprise. Liliana paused at a store selling spacial devices, an idea forming in her mind.

“I need to grab a spacial ring. I’ll be done in a moment,” she informed the small party. Alistair shrugged and leaned against the storefront, rubbing his gloved hands together. Emyr nodded and stayed by Alistair. One of the guards followed her in and they both let out light sighs at the warmth of the shop.

“Can I help you, m-my lady Liliana Rosengarde?” a voice called out. Liliana turned, a small smile on her face. It was always obvious the second someone identified her, the almost instant switch to deference.

“I need a storage ring, something simple. It needs to be no bigger than one cubic foot. But I need it to be soul bound,” Liliana told the young shopkeeper.

The young man nodded and motioned for her to come to the glass counter further inside the shop. Liliana waited as he set out a selection of rings for her to look at. Her needing it to be soulbound would make it more expensive, but it was worth it. Spatial items could either be bound to a single user or locked with a code of some sort. Since soul binding a spatial device required the craftsman to either hire someone with a Soul affinity or for the craftsman to get and raise the affinity themselves, they were more expensive. But what Liliana needed the ring for couldn’t be left to a simple code for a lock, something a determined and intelligent thief could eventually break.

“This one,” Liliana pointed out a simple, thin black band with a small sapphire embedded in it.

The shopkeeper verified her choice several times before making sure it would size to her finger correctly. It was obvious the boy thought a noble lady like her would wish for a far more ornate ring. But she didn’t care if the ring looked good, if she had her way, it wouldn’t see the light of day. It was a final precaution: if destroying the pendant failed, she’d lock the cursed item in the ring and have it hidden where no one would ever find it.

“All done?” Alistair asked as she stepped back out. Liliana nodded, smiling brightly.

“Yes, I got everything I need. Shall we go to see the performers?” she asked, feeling markedly lighter than she had in some time.