To the relief of both Abbie and Katherine, the tray Abbie carried managed to stay upright despite Shade’s sudden dash for his food. Katherine was especially grateful that there hadn’t been anything to drink on the tray—at least there was no mess to clean up.

  Moving with practiced care, Abbie set the tray on a side table before placing Shade’s bowl on the floor. Shade wasted no time, immediately devouring the meal with single-minded focus.

  The commotion, however, had startled Abbie’s baby from his nap. Abbie quickly retrieved him from his crib, cradling the child gently and rocking him in her arms. The soft rhythm of her movements gradually soothed the infant until his crying subsided. Once quiet returned, Abbie glanced over, her tone gentle as she asked, “How are you feeling?”

  Katherine hesitated, not wanting to dwell on her own discomfort. “I’m doing alright,” she replied, though she knew it wasn’t entirely true. She had only been awake for a few hours, and Shade even less. Waking up unable to walk—even if only for a few weeks—was a jarring experience she would have gladly avoided.

  Abbie watched her with understanding, her motherly expression soft but perceptive. “I know that was a lie,” she said quietly, offering a small, reassuring smile. “But I won’t push. How is Shade?”

  Shade looked up from his bowl, pausing long enough to acknowledge the conversation before burying his nose back into the food. Katherine couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, though her thoughts lingered on the changes in him since the rescue. Before their ordeal, Shade’s sleek black pelt helped him blend seamlessly into shadow, giving him an edge as a hunter. In the light, hints of purple and green shimmered along his coat, shifting as he moved. Now, scars crossed his chest and flank—painful reminders of what he’d endured. It was clear he wouldn’t be hunting alone anytime soon.

  Katherine felt the familiar bond between them pulsing stronger now that Shade was awake and by her side. “He’s going to be skittish for a while,” she admitted, her gaze lingering on his scarred fur. “I think I’ll keep him away from the kids, especially the little ones, until I’m sure he won’t react badly. Overall, though, he’s alright, considering everything.”

  Abbie nodded sympathetically, understanding the complexity of recovery after trauma. She, like Lira, had spent time with members of the ducal guard—soldiers who carried invisible wounds from battle, making ordinary life outside their armor a challenge. Witnessing their struggles inspired Abbie to become a healer, specializing in mental and soul health. It was one of the reasons Roland had asked her to keep an eye on Katherine; her knowledge could be invaluable during Katherine’s recovery. With Abbie’s husband working in the estate gardens, she found herself even more invested in helping those around her heal, both physically and emotionally.

  “I understand if you want to decline,” Abbie started, offering Katherine an escape from the option of self-imposed isolation. “But I need to get a few things from town. I was hoping you would want to come with.”

  Katherine hesitated, glancing at Shade—who was eating with single-minded devotion—then at her wheelchair. The thought of venturing out was daunting, but she knew it was necessary. Shade’s mana reserves were likely depleted, and he wouldn’t be able to use his usual skills until he recovered. Roland had suggested she increase Shade’s mana intake until he was strong enough to hunt on his own. Katherine knew Shade would stick close to her, so she needed to buy supplies to help him regain his strength. Mana was one of the few things he enjoyed eating, but his rare affinity meant the costs would add up quickly.

  “As much as I don’t want to today,” Katherine admitted, her voice tinged with reluctant resolve, “I probably should go get things for him sooner rather than later.”

  ...

  The market was alive with activity, filled with the scents of sizzling food and the lively shouts of crafters calling out to passersby, urging them to try their goods or make a purchase.

  One shop quickly caught Katherine’s attention. She nudged Abbie and pointed. “Do you mind if we check that place out?”

  Katherine rolled up to the entrance, pausing to take in the eclectic sign above—a stylized paw, feather, and scale wrapped around a glowing orb, marking it as a shop for familiars of every kind. Inside, shelves brimmed with all sorts of supplies: fur and feather brushes, iridescent scale polish, collars and harnesses for creatures both tiny and as large as Shade’s old hunting partner. One wall displayed enchanted bedding, treat jars, and toys, while another offered health supplies—mana supplements, fortified feeds, and bottles of healing tonics for different species.

  The store felt both spacious and quiet, the hush lending a sense of reverence to the merchandise. Katherine’s eyes wandered toward a group of teenage girls gathered around a central display that sparkled with multicolored stones. Light played across their surfaces, and something about the way the stones shimmered suggested there was more to them than met the eye. The girls leaned in, their voices hushed, clearly captivated by the subtle magic woven into the display.

  “Sure, let’s have a look,” Abbie agreed, expertly maneuvering Katherine’s wheelchair through the crowd.

  Katherine had already picked up as many mana-infused treats for Shade as her budget allowed, but she’d saved a little extra just in case something caught her eye. Earlier, she’d bought a book that offered insight into beasts and monsters with scales—a purchase that served two purposes: it would keep her occupied during her recovery and help her grow her Monster Lore skill in case they ever faced another drake or its kin.

  A store clerk greeted them with a friendly smile. “How can I help you ladies today?”

  Katherine glanced at Abbie. “I know I wanted to stop in, but is there anything you need while we’re here?” she asked, her tone warm and genuinely curious.

  Abbie shook her head with a grateful smile. “I’m all set, thanks.”

  “We’ll just browse a bit,” Katherine told the clerk, turning her attention back to the shelves.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Abbie guided Katherine through the aisles, sometimes picking out items to keep Shade entertained for when Katherine was strong enough to return to work. All the while, Katherine couldn’t shake her curiosity about the mysterious stone display. Why would a store focused on familiars sell ordinary stones?

  By the time Katherine was ready to check out, the group of teenagers had left, giving her a clear view of the display.

  “Did you have any trouble finding what you needed?” the clerk asked as he tallied up Katherine’s selections.

  “No trouble at all,” Katherine replied, feeling pleased with the shop and already considering a return visit. “But I do have one question.”

  “Of course,” the clerk replied, his customer service voice smooth and practiced.

  “What’s the story with that display?” Katherine asked, nodding toward the stones. “I wouldn’t have thought selling rocks would be very profitable, no matter how pretty they are.”

  The clerk chuckled. “You’re not wrong—but most of those aren’t just stones. They’re eggs. Though, I’ll admit, a few are regular rocks.”

  Abbie’s interest was piqued. “Really? That’s honest of you,” she said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

  “For just a few coppers, you can pick one out—egg or stone. That’s why it’s so cheap,” the clerk explained. “If it’s an egg, it’ll eventually hatch and you might get a new familiar. Could be something with feathers, scales, or even fur. But I can’t say for certain what you’ll get.”

  Katherine mulled it over. It was a gamble—she could just as easily buy a rock from the river for free. But the chance of discovering a rare familiar was tempting. Smiling wryly, she made her decision. “Alright, I’ll take one,” she said, hoping she wasn’t wasting her money—and that Shade wouldn’t mind if she brought home another companion.

  ...

  Shade’s reaction made it clear he was not happy about the new addition—at least, that’s how Katherine saw it. As soon as she placed the possible egg, nestled inside its portable incubator, on a shelf within her reach, Shade immediately sprang into action. With quick, determined swipes of his paw, he tried to bat the incubator off the edge.

  “Shade, stop that!” Katherine scolded, snatching his paws before disaster could strike. She shot him a firm look, her brow furrowed with concern. “It’s not a toy. This is an egg—fragile, even if it doesn’t look it.” Her voice was gentle but edged with warning as she steadied the incubator and placed it more securely.

  Abbie, leaning against the doorway and watching with amused eyes, couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “You know that’s not entirely true.” Her tone was light, teasing. Abbie was, after all, the only other person who knew the truth—Katherine had nearly dropped the incubator herself when they’d first left the shop, nerves and excitement making her grip uncertain.

  Katherine turned to glare at Abbie, lips pressed together in exasperation. “It’s still an egg, Abbie,” she insisted, her tone a blend of irritation and worry. “Sure, it might be tougher than the kind you scramble for breakfast, but Shade still needs to learn some self-control. Especially if I’m splitting my attention between two or three creatures now.” She let out a shaky breath, trying to keep her frustration in check.

  Shade seemed to sense her mood, and, with a resigned huff, finally settled down. He circled the incubator once, sniffed the box suspiciously, and then retreated to a corner of the room—a silent promise not to touch it. But his attention didn’t wander for long. His nose twitched, and soon mischief flickered in his eyes as he caught the scent of the treats Katherine had brought back just for him.

  “No, Shade,” Katherine said, catching the look in his eyes and raising a warning finger. “You’ll get some later, but not now.” She reached into a shopping bag and pulled out a small, twitching toy that resembled a live, rabbit-like creature. The moment she tossed it across the room, the toy scampered away on its own, drawing Shade’s gaze like a magnet.

  His pupils widened with excitement. In a heartbeat, Shade was off after his new plaything—his earlier resentment forgotten in the thrill of the chase. Katherine watched him, a fond smile softening her expression, grateful for these small moments of normalcy amid the changes in their lives. “That should keep him occupied for a little while,” she muttered to herself.

  …

  Katherine woke abruptly from an unintentional nap, rubbing the stiffness from her neck and shoulders. She wiped a trace of drool from her chin, stifling a yawn. “Wow, I must’ve been dead to the world,” she muttered, a touch of embarrassment in her voice.

  A gentle knock sounded at her door. She straightened, pulling her blanket a little closer around her. “Come in,” she called, schooling her expression into polite neutrality.

  To her surprise, it wasn’t Abbie or any of the usual faces—Corin, Duke Osric’s youngest son, stepped inside. Katherine’s posture stiffened. “Young master,” she greeted, her voice cool and professional, making it clear he wasn’t exactly a welcome guest despite his status as her employer’s son.

  Corin paused near the doorway, seeming to register her tone. “I deserve that,” he said quietly, acknowledging the distance between them. He hesitated before continuing, “How are you doing? I heard Abbie took you out to town.”

  Katherine’s grip tightened slightly on her blanket as she considered her response, suspicion flickering in her eyes. “I don’t see how that’s your concern,” she replied evenly, careful not to reveal too much.

  Corin nodded, accepting her boundaries. “It’s not,” he admitted with a small, awkward shrug.

  She studied him for a moment, picking up on his nervous energy—his hands fidgeted at his sides, and he avoided her gaze. “So, why are you actually here?” Katherine pressed, her voice edged with wariness. Their first meeting had been tense; Corin had been openly rude and accused her of trying to claim the same blue pyreling that had helped rescue her. That memory lingered, and she wasn’t eager for another confrontation.

  Corin shifted awkwardly, his cheeks coloring. “Um, this is actually a, uh… social call,” he admitted, words tumbling out as if he’d rehearsed them but now found them difficult to say aloud.

  Katherine cut him off with a raised hand, her tone firm but not unkind. “Sorry, but no,” she said, guessing where this might be headed. “I have a rule about relationships with coworkers. That includes you, as the son of my employer.”

  The tension in the room thickened for a moment. Katherine studied Corin more closely, noticing the boyish features that made him look at least a decade younger than herself. If she remembered right, Lira had mentioned her brother was much younger.

  Corin’s eyes widened with realization, and he waved his hands quickly in protest. “Oh, no—no, not like that!” he insisted, flustered. “I just… I wanted to find out what my sister sees in you. Lira’s always kept to herself, ever since we were kids. Our etiquette training taught her how to act normal enough, but she’s always been guarded. Her magic only makes her stand out more. I don’t want her to change who she is. I thought if I spent some time around you, maybe I’d understand her better.”

  Katherine leaned back as best she could, fixing Corin with an incredulous look. “You want me—someone who has only known your sister for…” She paused, tilting her head as she tried to recall. “Roughly a month,” she concluded, raising an eyebrow skeptically. “To explain what changed in her life to make her more open to others?”

  Corin nodded slightly. “Broadly speaking, yes.”

  “Why?” Katherine asked, her gaze steady. “She’s your sister. Shouldn’t you know her better than I do?”

  Corin hesitated, then admitted, “True, but not entirely. We may be related, but most families don’t share everything. That’s as true in mine as I’m sure it was in yours.”

  Katherine’s tone shifted from wary to more conversational. “Sure, but those are usually things parents keep from their kids, and vice versa—like a parent losing a job, or kids in serious relationships. Besides, you could always just ask her what’s new in her life.”

  Corin rubbed the back of his neck, looking frustrated. “I’ve tried, but she won’t let me in on the secret behind her change.”