Runa placed a hand on the scabbarded blade. She’d taken to wearing it strapped to her back, a small echo of Severine’s burden. She’d tied a scrap of fabric over the rubies. “It’s quiet, if that’s what you mean.”

  “That’s good.” But Severine still looked troubled.

  Runa nudged her. “And?”

  “And nothing. It’s good. I’m glad that it isn’t driving you mad with its desire to wreak death upon the world, and it’s… good… that it hasn’t come back to me, either. Which means it must have satisfied its fate, being with you.”

  Runa took a long drink, giving Severine time to think over whatever she was thinking over. “You keep saying ‘good’ like it isn’t.”

  Severine stared at her drink. “It was so easy.”

  She stopped, and Runa kept quiet, giving her space to keep talking if she wanted to.

  Severine’s shoulders hunched, as though she was trying to hide from her own words. “How can it have been that easy? Could it always have been that easy? Have I been worrying and questioning everything and trying to find loopholes in my duty—and running away and falling off rooftops—for nothing?”

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “Not nothing.” Runa moved closer to her on the long bench they were sitting at, putting one arm around her so she could nestle against her side. “You did bring me back that chocolate.”

  Severine snorted. “That’s a point. I wouldn’t have got you chocolate if I didn’t need to apologize for running off mysteriously.”

  “As for the rest of it…” She leaned her head against Severine’s. “You’ve been doing this a long time. Maybe it’s kind of nice for parts of the job to still surprise you?”

  “An ancient magical blade being used to pry gold leaf off a rooftop was sure surprising,” she grumbled. “You’re right. I should look on the bright side. Maybe I didn’t waste all that time and unhappiness worrying what would happen when Bloodburster found its fated wielder, and it’s actually just biding its time before raining destruction on us all?”

  “It had better keep biding until the harvest’s in, then.” Runa stretched.

  Errant arrived at their table with a mug of ale in each hand and one tucked under his arm. “End of harvest? That’ll be tomorrow, I expect.” He handed Runa and Severine a mug each, and looked around. “Where’s Tam?”

  “Having an early night.” Runa nodded beneath the table and Errant stooped to see his husband dozing peacefully where he’d slid from the bench earlier in the evening.

  “Which makes him probably the only one of us with any sense.” Errant sat down with them. “You’re all ready for tomorrow, Runa?”

  “The way you say that makes me think there’s something I should be ready for,” Runa retorted lazily. “You all want me to bake the first loaf of harvest? Is there more than that?”

  Errant leaned forwards. “Well, before we get you the flour for the loaf, there’s—”

  The tavern door burst open.

  Three shadowy figures stood in the doorway. One of them pointed at Runa.

  “There she is,” a voice bellowed. “That’s the one you’re after.”