“Let’s all take a deep breath and calm down.” Orson Mave, the bald leader of their team, barged in between and shoved Quinn back, scowling at him. “This is not the venue for bloodshed, neither side will benefit from this, how about we both pull back,” he said, turning to Ewan.

  “He’s a monster,” Quinn said, his eyes red. “And one day, you all will face the consequences with your blood for trusting him. He couldn’t even be loyal to his own home, so he will betray you, it’s just a matter of when and where.”

  “Boss, will you stab me in the back or the front?” Kidd asked, sniggering, and the heated ambience rested with the jests.

  “Please, let me do the honors,” Stefan said, adjusting his blindfold. “I’ll start sharpening a perfect blade for you.”

  Lance cleared his throat. “No need, you can have my scythe,” he said. “It’s sharp.”

  “There you go, they will all just stab each other. We don’t need to interfere,” Orson said and dragged Quinn off by his collar, his team following behind. And soon, only the fading clacks of their boots and their muffled argument made its way through the blackness of the garden. “We just gave the Seigneur our word for peace, we can't break it on his doorsteps…”

  ….

  Ewan grunted a deep breath on a stone bench while Nana stood before him and hugged his head, her fingers running through his hair—the other three enjoyed the trimmed lawn up front with an assortment of chocolate that their designated buxom waitress had brought.

  The assertion of betrayal on his part cracked Ewan’s mask of nonchalance, he couldn’t brush it off, for the concept of it sat beyond the limits of his reasoning. If push came to shove, would he betray…

  Loyalty, trust, reliance; these words still eluded him to this day.

  “Do you trust me?” he asked, looking up at her and meeting her eyes.

  “More than myself,” she said under her breath.

  “Why?”

  “If you have a reason for trusting someone, then you trust that reason, not the man.” She tightened her embrace. “Do you know why you trust me?”

  Ewan chuckled. “You assume I trust you,” he said. “Even when I’m in bed with you, I sleep with one of my eyes open, in case you stab me in the back.”

  She pulled his cheeks and her nose wrinkled. “Then why do I hear you wheezing in the deep night, you even kicked me once,” she said.

  “You do that, you use me as your side pillow. And by the morning, you use me as your bed,” he said. “You’re heavy.”

  “I’m not!”

  A gentle breeze through the garden bore its flowery whiff and interrupted their squabble; Nana’s hair fluttered with it, the ends of her strands dancing with their breaks and snaps.

  “But what if I…betrayed you one day?” Ewan asked, hesitant with his words, as his doubts clanked the armor of his confidence.

  “It’s fine,” she said with a smile, tears welling up in her eyes. “The sound of your heartbeat is my favorite music in the world, you’re the reason I’ve lived.” She tidied his hair again, the front that fell to his eyes, combing with her fingers. “Any decision you make, no matter where you go, I’ll follow you till the end. Even if…it means sharing you…”

  “What do you mean ‘share me’?” He laughed and flicked her forehead. “I already have one headache; you want to give me more?” She rubbed the sore spot—it caught a slight blush that blended with her reddening ears.

  “Embarrassed now?” Ewan said then got up, pulling her in by her waist, and stroked her face before crumpling it, her lips jutted in a pout. “You are mine, cement that fact in your head,” he said, pecking her, staring in her big eyes, and his caress gently brushed her cheeks again. “And I’m also yours,” he whispered. “No one can change that, ever.”

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  And her tears finally rolled down, cuddling his fingers. When Ewan struggled with his doubts, Nana had her own battle to fight with her insecurity, so much so that such a suggestion became a possibility. His actions always proved his intentions, he thought, that she knew what she meant to him. But from their days in Obria to their journey on Stormfalcon, especially after they met again on Bexthon, she lacked his confirmation—spoken words often held that weight, and their absence could dismantle a relationship. He thought he knew the value of communication, he thought he abided by it…

  “Tastes of bitter salty caramel,” Ewan said, licking his lips.

  “It’s because you can't taste the sweet in it,” she said, sniffing and wiping her tears off his hand. “It’s really good.”

  Kidd cleared his throat on the side and cracked the moment. “Boss, everyone’s leaving now,” he said.

  “Let’s stay for the breakfast gathering, we still need to ask around for the vestige,” Ewan said. “You all know what to do, make them tipsy and drop hints, some should talk. I’ll chat up the Seigneur, see if he knows something. And we also need to buy what we can before the prices soar.”

  “Ewan, about that Quinn guy,” Stefan said; streaks of chocolate smeared the corners of his lips. “He’s going to be a problem.”

  “Wherever he got that messy information from, I wonder; he thought I was working for whoever orchestrated that massacre,” Ewan said. “Either way, he’s already proven his hostility, we need to deal with him when we can, or he’ll just get in our way.”

  “And you thought he was jealous of you, sir.” Lance chuckled.

  Ewan looked at him. “When will you drop that sir and ma’am?” he asked, and Lance choked for words.

  “Bitch, you added ‘sir’ even when you made fun of him,” Kidd said.

  Ewan grabbed his hair and rattled his head, yet again as always. “Clean that foul mouth of yours, you fuckface,” he said. “We also have a girl with us, you cheese fucker.”

  “Boss,” Kidd said, his voice shaking in a vibrato. “Your vocabulary of curses is bigger than mine.”

  “Vr…Vra…Vraan.” Lance finally uttered the Drarith’s word for older brother—it was the Kaalerian tongue—and then looked at Nana. “Sa…Sae’sa.”

  “The formality is killing me,” Stefan said, stuffing his face with another bar of chocolate.

  “No! Sae’sa was mine!” Kidd yelled.

  And Ewan kicked his ass. “She’s mine, you cunt,” he said and went on full assault.

  “I meant the word, Boss! The word!!” The tranquil night rumbled with his tragic screams.