The summoning spared you from some of your duties, though it didn’t seem to me a fair bargain.
I followed at a distance, feeling like a shadow trying to pass for a flame.
The dining terrace opened onto a wide stoneplatform shaded by climbing vines and open to the morning air. The high table—long and curved—was already spread with food. Servants moved between it and the kitchens, replenishing platters and pouring wine.
The scents struck first—sweet and savory, fresh and rich.
Ripe figs and sliced peaches. Warm bread split open to release steam. Aged cheese, creamy and sharp. Bowls of honey and dark jam. Small carafes of watered wine gleaming ruby in the sun. Everything arranged with the same careless perfection I had seen in the courtyards.
I lingered at the edge of the terrace, unsure if I was meant to wait or approach.
A young man waved me over.
He had black curls cropped close and a wide, generous smile. Hisseretwas neatly draped, but the pin at his hip was golden, which meant something—I didn’t know what.
“You’re new,” he said as I approached.
I nodded.
“Sit with us,” he said, patting the seat beside him. “Unless you’re fasting.”
“I’m not,” I murmured.
He grinned. “Then don’t let the gods think you’re ungrateful.”
I sat. The cushion was soft. The warmth of the sun on my back warred with the cold knot in my stomach.
“I’m Lysian,” the boy said. “This is Ferel”—hegestured to the cocky boy with the bare chest—“and that’s Iro.”
Iro was quieter, broad-shouldered and olive-skinned, his dark hair braided down his back. He nodded once, a small but not unfriendly gesture.
“I’m Callis.”
“Welcome, Callis,” Ferel said with a smirk, reaching for a fig and biting into it with theatrical pleasure. “Have you seen much of the place yet?”
“Not… not much.” I reached for a piece of bread, my fingers brushing the crust. “I arrived yesterday.”
“The first day’s always strange,” said Lysian. “Second isn’t much better.”
They laughed. Even Iro cracked a smile.
“Have you seen the eastern pools?” Ferel asked. “Or the Temple of Velna? Or—gods, the silver stair? If you go up just after dawn?—”
“I saw the Temple of Elyon,” I said, before I could stop myself.
Their eyes turned toward me.
“It was beautiful,” I added quickly, reaching for cheese. “Quiet. And familiar.”
Lysian tilted his head. “You were a temple boy, then.”
“A scribe.”
“Then you’ll want to find the library wing. Aerius keeps his house near the terraces.”
I nodded, chewing slowly. The cheese was sharp, but rich. The bread still warm.
“What did you see there?” Ferel asked, his voice too casual.
