Conrad took one of the few horses left in our stables and went on his way with the antidote tucked safely into his bag. Gisela and I watched him go down the path leading to town. Neither of us I asked questions. I didn't because Conrad wouldn't give me truthful answers, and I supposed Gisela cared not how Conrad convinced the town this antidote was real, as long as he did.

"Laurence! Gisela!" Valda's voice rang out behind me.

When I turned, a very indignant-looking Valda came storming out the front door with little Fynn on her heels. He had to run to keep up with her.

A frown was etched onto Valda's face. Her black hair, which was usually neatly braided, was now a disheveled mop. I would've teased my sister that she wouldn't want a future husband to see her like this, if she didn't look like she was about to spit fire like a dragon.

"Mother told me what happened," Valda said, her cheeks red with rage. "You faced Ytel's men in here at the mansion without me? I cannot believe it."

I held up my hands in defence. "We didn't exactly face them without you here. You were just in your bed."

"Honestly, Valda. You would sleep straight through a ball organised by the queen herself in Wildewall's court if it was held too early in the morning," Gisela said with her hands on her hips.

"I would not!" Valda huffed. "And that's not even all! You also let Oleander get hurt?"

"And you gave them Spot?" Fynn sniffled. A tear rolled down his cheek.

Shit, I had already almost forgotten about Ytel's men taking two of our horses. One of the two, a speckled horse, was Fynn's favourite. He had called her Spot. In all the commotion, I hadn't had the time to wake Fynn and warn him so he could say goodbye to Spot.

"Oh, Fynn, I'm sorry." I walked over to my little brother and kneeled to give him a hug. "Maybe we will be able to buy Spot back from Ytel's men. We have something of value to sell in town now, thanks to Oleander."

Fynn threw his arms around me. "Really?" he asked in a small voice. 

"Yes, we can see what we can do," I tried my best to reassure Fynn without lying. I couldn't guarantee that we could get our horses back. Ytel's men would surely be suspicious as to why I wanted those horses back in particular, and be purposely unaccommodating.

Fynn kept clinging to me, so I scooped him up as I stood. "However, we need to prepare and sell antidotes on the market first. After that, we will have the coin to get Ytel's men off our back for good and to reclaim our property."

"Yes, well, Oleander will need to recover before all that, won't he? He's the only one who can make the antidotes." Valda clacked her tongue. "Laurence, I cannot believe you of all people would let him stab himself with vile Elvenear."

I felt a clenching in my chest. "Don't call it Elvenear. It's Bleeding Ivy," I said. "And I didn't let Oleander stab himself, alright? He made that choice and I didn't agree with it."

Both Valda and Gisela stared at me, clearly taken aback by my sudden protest against the use of the word Elvenear. It was a common folk term, after all. Used interchangeably with Bleeding Ivy. It just didn't sit well with me anymore to use that word now that Oleander was in our household.

"I will bring Fynn to his room now," I said, giving Fynn's back a rub. "Then I will be back to align our plans."

"Very well," Gisela said. "We will wait for you."

Valda looked like she wanted to ask me why I didn't want her to say Elvenear. I was grateful that Gisela placed her hand on Valda's back and took her along. It didn't stop my younger sister from shooting me curious glances over her shoulder, but it did stop her from asking questions.

I turned the other way and started ascending the stairs with Fynn in my arms.

"Laurence, when will I be old enough to join you when you talk about things in the living quarters?" Fynn asked. "You always keep me away when you talk to our mother and father. I want to help get Spot back, too!"

I brushed my fingers through Fynn's unruly hair. "You will be able to help," I promised. "Just let the adults speak first. It's all boring meetings, anyway. I wish I could stay in your room and play with your toy animals instead."

"Let's trade then!" Fynn immediately suggested. "I will be the head of the house, and you can play in my room."

I chuckled. "I will think about it."

We walked past Oleander's room. The door was ajar and I couldn't help but take a peek inside. I caught a flash of Oleander on the bed. His eyes were open, and he smiled when he saw me. I smiled back, but hurried on.

Fynn craned his neck to catch another glimpse of Oleander. "Mother told me he was going to stay here, but not as a servant," he said. "She says he's your friend. But... he's not your friend, is he?"

My ears grew hot and I hushed Fynn. "Of course he's my friend. He's a friend to all of us."

"You and mother both think I don't know, but I do," Fynn went on in a whisper. "You're going to lie together in a bed like in the books."

I nearly choked on my own spit. "What books?"

"The one at the back of Gisela's closet," Fynn replied. "It's called A Dalliance with the Duke."

I opened and closed my mouth. "By the thunder god's wrath, you're far too young to be reading those kinds of books, Fynn," I scolded him. "Stay out of Gisela's closet. I'm going to pretend I don't know that about her, and if you value your life, you will do the same."

"Alright, the book was kind of boring anyway." Fynn easily agreed. Then he leaned his head a little closer to my ear. "But I have to tell you a secret. I like Oleander much better than Ariane. She never even talks to me when she's here. I hope you marry Oleander instead."

My face grew even hotter and my skin prickled. How did one talk about such matters with a little brother who was far too inquisitive for his age? I decided to keep it simple. "For many reasons, it's difficult to break a betrothal," I said. "If it weren't difficult, Ariane Seydal would have already broken ours the moment house Montbow was ruined."

"Is it not that easy?" Fynn was silent for a moment. "Laurence, can you marry a man?"

"I, uh. Well, it has happened," I sputtered. "The north and west of Wyndmore was eventually reunited by a marriage between two women, Sonia and Katharine, because there was no son in either ruling family. The entire country might've been dragged into a bloody war if they couldn't settle their dispute, so they agreed on the union."

We arrived at Fynn's room, and I opened the door. "Such a situation is rare, however. And like Gisela's books, wanting me to marry Oleander is another secret you best keep to yourself, alright? I am already promised to Ariane, and that is final."

Fynn pouted as I set him down on the ground, but nodded.

"Good. Those are our little secrets, then." I pressed my index finger to my lips. "Now, you go play. I'll go to my dull adult meeting."

"Alright," Fynn replied listlessly. He trudged over to his wooden toy horses and soldiers on the table. He grabbed one of the horses, but there was a sadness in his eyes as he galloped it across the table. I hoped Fynn would forget about Spot in a few days, because getting mother and father to agree to going after Ytel's men for horses wouldn't be likely.

I didn't stop by Oleander's room on my way back downstairs. He had everything he needed in his room, and seeing him would only tempt me into skipping meetings and staying with him instead.

When I entered the living quarters downstairs, my family, sans Conrad and Fynn, was gathered by the fire. I saw my mother and my father standing opposite each other like two fighters in an arena. Mother was frowning, and my father's lips were pressed into a thin, resolute line. The air was thick with tension.

I might've tiptoed out of the room if my mother hadn't briefly looked up when I stepped inside and knew I was here.

After curtly nodding at me in greeting, my mother turned back to my father. "Gisela does not need to stay with Laurence and Oleander," she said. "She is much better suited to help in the fields, gathering herbs and keeping us and Valda safe."

"That boy is not a herbalist," my father bit. "And we all know it. We have no idea who he is, or when he'll show his true colours."

I cast my eyes to the ceiling, before sighing and approaching my parents. "Alright, what is going on here? What is the problem?"

"We agreed is wise to leave you here in the mansion to defend it and Oleander, who will prepare the antidotes," Gisela answered. "Where I will go, however, seems to be up for debate."

I shook my head, confused. "Because I cannot be alone with Oleander?" I asked. "You think he will harm me? Because if he wanted to harm me, he would've had far more opportunity to do so during our journey here from the Serpentine Mountains."

"Don't look at me, look at your father," my mother snapped. "I don't believe Oleander is a herbalist, but he is not here to betray us either. Why win our trust? What would he gain out of it aside from a place in our household? There are plenty more affluent families to join or try to take down for the coin. And if he wanted the last of our land and our mansion to be surrendered to Wildewall and knight commander Ytel, he could've already let that happen today."

"He could be working for another master than Ytel," my father pointed out gruffly. "He could have intentions we cannot think of because have been cut off from Wildewall, the court, and the circle of nobility for too long!"

Mother sighed deeply. "Caution is healthy. Paranoia is not. You are seeing evil intentions everywhere, Uwe. How about the most obvious explanation? The one we have been seeing all along? Oleander was abandoned by his own family and left to die. He owes Laurence. He wants to prove himself worthy and stay beside him."

"He wouldn't have offered to entrust me with the Bleeding Ivy antidote recipe if he meant to betray us," I added. "Besides, we have been alone on several occasions. I am convinced he's not after our lives."

A look of anger flashed in my father's eyes as he looked at me. "I don't trust him or his convenient 'knowledge.' You saw what I saw! Oleander was ready to draw a sword when I tested his reflexes." My father shook his head. "I will gladly be the paranoid old man in all your minds, but Gisela will stay with you while the rest of us go out and forage. Laurence, I needn't remind you that you cannot die before you return to the Serpentine mountains and become a knight"

I almost felt myself shrink at the reminder of the dragons on mount Serpentine. I looked at Gisela, who wore a blank expression. She didn't show any emotions one way or another—you'd never know if she was glad or not with a decision unless she told you. Mother made her displeasure with my father's words more known. Without another word, she marched out of the living quarters. 

I was more inclined to agree with my mother on this matter. I didn't want Gisela sitting in a corner and watching while I was with Oleander. It'd be much better to be alone with him at the mansion, with everyone else gone. It appeared my mother was done arguing, however, and I wasn't about to challenge my father on my own. All I'd get were word lashings and reminders that I needed to live because I and I alone could slay a dragon and fully win back our family honour.

I followed my mother and stepped into the hallway. With Oleander still ill in bed, there was little for me to do but practice with my bow. If I were to face a dragon again soon, I had to make sure I remained quick on the draw and ready. I could only hope my preparations this time would be enough.

On the cliffs out back, I practiced my archery without interruptions until my arms and back were sore. When the sky went grey and the sun started sinking behind cresting waves, Conrad returned to the mansion. He walked my way with his horse, as he needed to pass me to reach the stables.

"How went the outing, Conrad?" I asked the moment my brother was in earshot. I kept my gaze fixed on my shooting target.

Conrad's footsteps and the clopping of hooves stopped. "It went well," Conrad replied. "A little girl playing near the hills got stung. She is healed. The townsfolk now believe in the antidote and we can start selling."

I loosened an arrow. It struck the centre of my target. "And I suppose you had nothing to do with that incident?"

I looked at my brother, but his face was unreadable. Gisela showed little emotion, but with Conrad I truly couldn't tell what he was thinking, or what he was doing. Conrad's gaze lingered on my bow and the glowing tip of my arrow, charged with thunder magic. He scowled.

"Of course not, lord Montbow" he said. With an abrupt tug on the reins, Conrad walked on to the stables with his horse following behind him.