The sun was a shadow of its summer self—no longer commanding, only polite in its warmth, as though it feared overstepping.
Breakfast had been pleasant. Too pleasant. The sort of calm that made one uneasy only after it passed.
"I haven't seen anyone else on this floor," I said, shifting restlessly on the bed. "Do you think an inn like this would truly have so few guests?"
No reply came at once.
"Perhaps she rented the entire floor," Heiwa said at last, her attention never leaving the letter she was writing.
"Hm," I murmured, unsure whether curiosity or caution should win. I did not ask what the letter was for. Some silences were deliberate.
I turned my thoughts outward—to the city beyond the window, to the lesson I had been promised. To firearms. I had invited Heiwa to join me, but she had refused.
Is it because guns make cultivators lazy?
I glanced at her back, as though it might answer me if I stared long enough.
Knock. Knock.
"Do come in," Heiwa said.
The door slid open to reveal Miss Lakshmi and Miss Halle, both composed, both already dressed for the day.
"Good morning, girls," Miss Lakshmi said warmly. "How was your night?"
"Quite all right," we answered together. Heiwa finally set her pen down.
I felt a spark of excitement stir—soon I would learn to shoot properly, to be useful, or at least less of a burden. I swallowed the urge to ask if we were leaving immediately. No need to look like an overeager child who could not read the air.
"A letter to your father?" Miss Lakshmi asked, smiling at Heiwa.
"Yes," Heiwa replied. "I hoped to ask for his counsel."
"Hm," Miss Lakshmi said, already moving closer. "You shouldn't push yourself so hard. Are you sleeping well?"
She cupped Heiwa's face gently between her palms.
"Doesn't seem like it."
"I am fine," Heiwa said, pulling away with mild irritation.
"Anyway," Miss Lakshmi continued smoothly, "an airship was reported in Twin Hill Province."
Miss Halle handed Heiwa the newspaper. I leaned forward, trying to read over her shoulder.
"We should return," Heiwa said abruptly. Her voice was rough—strained in a way that set my nerves alight.
I didn't understand. Airships already crossed the skies. What made this one different?
"I intend to," Miss Lakshmi said softly. "But I think you should visit your family first."
She sighed, as though bracing herself.
"There is little you can do there," she continued, forestalling protest. "And rushing to a battlefront is not wisdom—it's guilt wearing courage's face."
The room fell silent. The air thickened, pressing against my chest.
So… no shooting practice?
I glanced at Miss Halle, but she only exhaled quietly.
"What would visiting them even accomplish?" Heiwa murmured.
The question lingered—heavy, unanswered, trembling with everything she did not say.