“We appreciate that you’ve gone out of your way to inform us of all these excellent developments, elders.” I decided to get things moving, offering Hyel and Ferlis a shallow bow and hoping they would take the hint. “It is a relief to hear that the town’s safety and future will only continue to improve.”

  Thankfully, Hyel was rather adept at picking up on such clues. He offered us a smile even as he started to step away. “I am relieved that you approve of the steps we’ve taken so far. We will be here if you wish to speak more on the subject.”

  I returned the smile, though my expression was a touch colder than his, and spared a moment to watch them walk away.

  Ferlis, to me at least, looked a little startled at how quickly the conversation had been concluded, but Hyel only seemed thoughtful.

  I turned my attention back to the fox, who was watching me like he wasn’t sure which mask to put on: helpful bluster or meek subservience. In normal circumstances, this would have been amusing. Unfortunately, I was there for a sincere conversation, rather than to take my displeasure out on him.

  Letting myself sigh, I snatched up a chair and helped my dragoness into it before seating myself at Ritsu’s table as well.

  “I don’t suppose you are here to ask me to prepare a special meal?” the fox prodded, still maintaining a small smile despite the obvious trepidation in his posture.

  “Unfortunately not. We —”

  “We agreed to leave all meal prep to me,” a voice cut in, again.

  I had to work quite hard to control any unpleasant reactions as I directed a strained smile at Arandel

  The elf looked happy to see us, yes, but also relieved. It took me a moment to realize she had probably eavesdropped on our exchange with the elders. I couldn’t find it in me to be upset, but I still wished I could get through this conversation with the fox uninterrupted.

  “Well, no need to worry. Neither Alys nor I are hungry… I think? Did I speak too soon, dear?”

  Alys snorted and batted my arm playfully, but nodded. “No, you’re right. We’re not hungry right now. Although… maybe something sweet, if you have anything?” She squirmed sheepishly in her seat. “Those cookies the Hoffmanns served us got me into a mood.”

  “I can do that!” Arandel said brightly. “We still have plenty of honey, and Pen’s started bringing in some interesting things from further out in the wilderness, including some berries and fruits. You sit tight, and I’ll be back soon!”

  She shot us a brilliant grin, then gave Ritsu a look of smug superiority before sweeping away.

  I looked around, trying to spot anyone else about to infringe on our conversation. I then gave the world half a minute to surprise me. Finally, I refocused on Ritsu, who was still watching us in silence.

  “I…” I paused once more, but no one jumped in, and it didn’t somehow get magically easier to say what I needed to say. “I wanted to… apologize, first of all. So… I am… sorry.”

  I barely managed to tear the words out of my throat, and probably appeared as miserable as I felt doing so, but I tried to remind myself how horrible Kiri had looked.

  Apparently, Ritsu knew enough about fae to be appropriately shocked.

  “What?”

  “I understand that my anger with you was sudden, and likely unexpected. It was the dish you served me. The Summer one. I…”

  I gritted my teeth and looked away, but Alys’ fingers found mine again, and that grounded me in the moment.

  “You should understand that finding someone like me out here on the frontier is not exactly common,” I hedged. I knew he would know what I was talking about, and that anyone listening in would likely think I was referring to my profession rather than my race. “My reasons for being here are rooted in turbulent family history. Your dish dredged that up and made it impossible not to think about the issues which drove me here in the first place.”

  I hesitated to look up, knowing that if I saw certain emotions on his face, they would only encourage less than friendly reactions on my part. Yet when I finally lifted my eyes, I was relieved to find regret and chagrin there, rather than something like pity.

  I wouldn’t have handled pity well.

  “I understand that you didn’t mean to provoke such a reaction, but…” I trailed off, then shrugged.

  “That was not my intention at all! I merely thought… That is…” The fox curled in on himself, looking oddly vulnerable. “Yes, I meant to tease, I suppose. But having a dish from one’s homeland is, from my experience, also a pleasant occasion, not… I wouldn’t use food like that.”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Oddly enough, I believed him. There was a sincere vehemence to his voice when he made that final declaration. It didn’t wipe away the grudge still lingering at the back of my mind, like a persistent itch I could do nothing about, but it did make some small part of me unwind and breathe a bit more easily.

  “Hrm. Boys,” my dragoness grumbled, interrupting the staring contest the fox and I had inadvertently started. “Now that we’re past that, should we focus on why we came here?”

  “Yes, please,” I said quickly. “Let us not talk about this again.”

  The fox’s tails danced behind him anxiously as he winced.

  “Why are you here? I am thankful you came, and our conversation has been enlightening so far, but… I didn’t have the impression that you would move past grudges… ah, easily.”

  Once more, I had to pause and consider my next words.

  Meddling was a perfectly natural thing for a fae to do, that was true enough. But now that I was in front of Ritsu, I found myself haunted by misgivings. What if I tried to make things better and only upset Kiri? Certainly, I was hoping to help her, but was that the right thing to do?

  Then the memory of her sobbing in our arms flashed to the forefront of my mind, and I steeled my determination. If I ruined things somehow, then at least she would have her resentment of me to bolster her a little. It would distract her from clinging to misery, at the very least.

  “You need to do something, and soon,” I declared.

  The fox’s brow furrowed. “Pardon?”

  I looked around, then flared my mana in a few detection spells. They revealed no undue attention directed our way. Once the elders had left our table, the Hall’s current residents seemed to have lost interest in us.

  I still dropped my voice to barely above a whisper.

  “Listen, you and Kiri clearly care about each other to some extent. I don’t know the details of what has happened between you two, but —”

  “Nothing. Nothing has happened,” Ritsu cut in, sounding extremely dejected about it. “I hinted that I might want more than simple friendship, and she concluded the conversation rather swiftly after that. I haven’t found the courage to approach her since. Not that I have any obligation to discuss such matters with you, or with anyone else, for that matter.”

  His voice had turned somewhat sharp there at the end. His tails writhed as his fangs literally showed for once, meekness falling away in favor of a tiny bit of aggression.

  “Easy,” Alys rumbled, eyes narrowing. “We wouldn’t be here without a reason. I like you well enough, but I stick by my mate. So, relax.”

  The fox hesitated, but obeyed, forcefully settling his tails so they fell into his lap. Smoothing down the raised fur, he began combing his fingers through it.

  “I am listening.”

  “Kiri is… not well,” I continued, choosing my words with care. “She, too, has a complicated family history, and her background affects her more than mine affects me. What I am trying to say is that she is terrified of starting anything. With anyone. You must have noticed she tends to keep to her own company?”

  “Yes…” he whispered, his eyes shifting over things unseen. I suspected he was reflecting over the memories he had made with the Winter fae.

  “I will not be sharing things she told us in confidence. This might be too much of an overstep and a betrayal of her trust already, but I saw no better choice. At the very least, you should visit her and have a conversation about what the both of you want out of the future.”

  “And you should bring her food,” Alys declared sagely. “Lots of nice food. That ought to help. What?” she demanded when she caught me staring at her. “Kiri looks like a mess. She’s probably been skipping meals when my mother doesn’t have her hands on her.”

  “Meals and sleep, probably,” I concurred, catching Ritsu’s look of mild horror at the prospect of refusing to eat. “Do you think she’s still at our house?”

  “Probably. Mother didn’t seem inclined to let her slip away. That means you should be ready to deal with fire if you visit and manage to upset her or my mother somehow,” Alys dryly warned the fox.

  He looked more amused than anything. “Trust me, dearest customer, I am quite capable of enduring heat.”

  The kitsune giggled in a way that reminded me why I’d had such a hard time determining his gender. Two of his tails coyly covered his face for a moment, sparks of green-blue flames flickering over their fur.

  I almost rolled my eyes at the display, but I felt an odd sense of relief to see Ritsu reverting to a more playful personality.

  Beyond the anger, annoyance, and other negative emotions I’d allowed to build up between us, I could admit that I had enjoyed getting to know him prior to the Summer dish incident. He’d been very difficult to dislike, despite his tendency to push and pry. I even found myself thinking that maybe, just maybe, I would be alright with moving past everything sincerely and giving friendship another go.

  Depending on how he handled things with Kiri, of course.

  Besides, if he did manage to drag the Winter fae out of her downward spiral, I would feel obligated to put up with him. Not only because he would have helped Kiri, but because he would likely end up becoming far more than just her friend. That would be justification enough to let go of my grudge, I decided.

  “Good. In that case, I wish you luck.” I surprised myself to find that I actually meant it. “I dislike seeing the condition Kiri is currently in. Just be sure not make things worse, fox.”

  “Hrrrm. What my mate said. Kiri is one of mine now.” Alys nodded like the matter was settled, which for her, it probably was.

  I still found it adorable how protective Alys could be of the town and the people in it. Ritsu laughed and nodded his assent, but I wasn’t sure he quite understood how serious my dragoness was.

  She was absolutely willing to burn down a fox if said fox only made Kiri sadder.

  Yet as I watched Ristu start to scheme, those keen eyes of his once more darting left and right as he muttered to himself, I had the feeling that fire wouldn’t be required. The fox genuinely seemed to care about Kiri, even if he probably didn’t know her too well yet.

  My musings were interrupted by the sudden approach of a beaming Arandel, who quickly put down several plates in front of us. Pancakes, some sort of fruit-covered flat deserts, and what looked like muffins at first glance were all still steaming as Arandel proudly presented them.

  The smug glances she kept throwing at Ritsu were rather amusing as well, especially when her expression soured upon noticing the fox was thoroughly preoccupied.

  I busied myself watching my dragoness immediately dig into one of the desserts, a massive smile on her face, and felt lighter than I had in a while.

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