Turning the paper around, I read the rest of the Chronicler’s letter.

“Next time you put pen to paper, do so with fiction,” she finished.

I smirked at that and folded her letter up. The four page thing, eight since she always wrote on both sides, had mostly been an ass chewing.

One well deserved, but sometimes I felt like she enjoyed the whole, I told you so, more than someone of the cloth should.

Sitting back, I sighed as I tapped the folded letters against my knee.

A vote.

Against me.

Against my protection. My service. My loyalties.

It’d be insulting if they didn’t have ground to stand upon.

Glancing at the fireplace, I stared at the stack of logs and kindling waiting to be lit.

I had gathered it up and prepared it already. In anticipation of burning the letters… but I wasn’t done yet.

I wanted to burn them already. To stop thinking about them, or their contents. But I still had…

My eyes left the unlit fireplace, and went to the table next to me. The three unopened letters, sitting amidst the four others already opened and read, made me itch.

Their contents were all the same, roughly. Like the Chronicler’s.

Telling me that I shouldn’t worry. That they’d help me. That they’d be the voices of reason, amongst the choir of dissent.

I’d be humbled by their generous support and readiness to come to my side… if not for the fact they were all being just as snarky about it as the Chronicler.

Yes. I was a hypocrite. I caused most of my own problems. My failures were usually my own fault, in one way or another.

But what did they want from me? What did they expect me to do?

Or well…

Lifting the Chronicler’s letter, I stared at some of the words written upon it. They told me exactly what she expected. What they all did.

“To be a tyrant,” I whispered.

They expected me to force people to obey me. They expected me to lead. To stop allowing our weakest and feeblest members to give me orders.

To break free from Celine’s contract.

I scoffed and tossed her letter onto the table.

Ridiculous.

They all forgot I wrote most of that contract. I forced most of those rules myself.

Why would I try to free myself from shackles I willingly locked upon my own soul?

Though maybe it would be for the best.

Maybe this would bring forth a needed change. Something that needed to happen. Something… something like…

I paused to remember Renn’s look. When she had heard of the vote, and who had called for it. When she had heard she was one of the many excuses they were using, to strike against me.

She had been as angry over it as she was hurt by it.

It had been a lovely sight on her face. She had been furious, yet welling with tears.

They were going to try to use her as an example. As proof of my inept handling of the Societies well being.

How little they knew.

They were in for a surprise beyond imagination if they thought it’d work.

A light knock made me sigh.

“Come in Oplar,” I said.

She opened the door slowly, smirking at me as she glanced around the room.

Watching her as she entered the room, and slowly shut the door behind her… she finally nodded with a knowing smile.

“What?” I asked.

“I’m just… enjoying this, Vim. I’ve seen you mingle before, but never anything like this…” Oplar paused a moment, then smirked as she stepped over to the bed.

I watched as she reached down and picked something up. Something tiny, yet long.

A strand of hair.

“You know I think she’s the first member you’ve slept with that I know of?” Oplar teased me as she showed me a strand of Renn’s hair.

Looking away from the bear, I strained my ears as I listened beyond the room. To the world outside, not just the hallway and floors below and above.

I didn’t hear Renn. She wasn’t near the courtyard, based on the fact I couldn’t hear her at all.

“Though I’ve always thought Landi got to you too, though she’s never admitted it,” Oplar said as she tossed Renn’s hair back onto the bed and stepped away from it.

Rolling my eyes at the idea, I watched as Oplar pulled over the only other chair in the room. It was a much smaller, less comfortable, one compared to the one I was sitting in… but I wasn’t in the mood to offer her my own.

In fact I wasn’t really even the mood for her teasing or any jokes right now either, but I knew I needed to talk to her.

This was the first time we’ve had a moment alone since she’s arrived after all.

“Renn’s right now happily debating the rest. Though I use the term happily a little loosely… she can get rather fired up, it seems,” Oplar said as she took a seat across from me.

“She shouldn’t do that,” I said.

“What woman wouldn’t try to defend her man?” Oplar asked me.

“One who should know better,” I said.

Oplar tilted her head at me. “You expect her to… stand on the fringe? Like you do? Really?”

My left eye twitched, and I had to stop myself from giving her the first answer that came to mind.

After a tiny moment of calming down, I shook my head. “Of course not… but her fervor can be…” I gestured lightly instead of saying it aloud.

“Very forceful, especially to our lesser members. Yes. Luckily most here don’t seem too bothered by her. Though most here are used to those like Sharp, so it’s to be expected,” Oplar said.

I nodded.

“Yet still Vim… I’m a little surprised. You actually did for a moment there think she should be like you. I’m surprised you’d think so. It makes me wonder if your rules are more than just agreements, or if it’s simply a tell of how deeply you care for her,” Oplar then said as she thought about it.

My eye twitched again. Damn. She had noticed.

Why were the most perceptive members always so annoying?

Though… Renn was too. Yet she didn’t annoy me at all.

Or did she, just in different ways?

Oplar sighed as she glanced next to me, at the table. The letters upon it, specifically.

“You know… I’ve never really considered it before. But you have as many friends as you do foes, Vim,” Oplar said gently.

“I have no enemies within the Society,” I said.

“Right. Sure you don’t,” she said with a small nod of the head.

“I destroy my enemies. Whom are you expecting me to destroy?” I asked her further.

Oplar held my gaze for a small moment… only to frown and nod. “Fine… you don’t have enemies… you simply have many members with grudges and criticisms,” she corrected.

I nodded, glad to hear it.

She chuckled. “The Clothed Woman of course had no letter for you… but she did have a message, if you’d like to hear it.”

Closing my eyes, I felt a pain that didn’t exist for a moment. “What is it?”

“She warned you, she says. Devour them, then they’ll devour you,” Oplar told me of her warning.

I scoffed. “And do you know whom she speaks of, Oplar?”

“Well… no. But I’m enjoying seeing you react to it all the same,” Oplar admitted.

Right. Sure.

“How’s Lumen?” I asked.

“Hm? Fine. They were busy with Thraxton and all those merchants and lords. There were royalty and bishops from neighboring nations involved too. Brandy is having the time of her life,” Oplar said.

Good. Although it meant down the road I’d have pain and headache, at least right now all was well.

“Oh. Those pirates showed up too. ” Oplar remembered.

Frowning, I gestured for her to continue.

She nodded. “They’re fine, last I heard. Merit took them under her wing, though I’m not sure what they’re doing,” she told me.

Huh… I should be surprised, but honestly I wasn’t. Renn would be very happy to hear the news, though. Even if it seemed Oplar either didn’t know their full story, or simply didn’t care.

“Telmik is fine. Everyone I know of is fine. I have a letter for Renn, from Twin Hills. Several in fact. I also have one for her from Crane, amongst others,” Oplar then said.

I frowned. “You speak as if you haven’t given them to her yet,” I said.

That wasn’t… shouldn’t be possible. She’d only been here a day, but…

“Because I haven’t,” Oplar said as she dug underneath her right arm, and pulled out a small bag. One she had hidden in her pants.

She stared at it for a moment, and then reached out to hand it to me.

I only stared at it.

“Why are you giving me her letters, Oplar…?” I asked softly.

“She’s yours Vim,” Oplar said simply.

My eye twitched again, and not because she was teasing me.

This was Oplar being very serious.

“Those are hers, Oplar,” I said.

Oplar blinked, but the small bag didn’t move. “They are?” she said, as if my statement made no sense to her.

I sighed, and decided to just let it be. I leaned forward and grabbed the bag.

It felt thick enough to be more than just a few letters. Or someone had written far more than a few pages.

Oplar smiled and nodded, glad to have delivered her task successfully.

Sitting back, I put the bag on my lap and stared at the bear that was… a little more animal than human, sometimes.

Really. You’d think someone without any actual traits wouldn’t be so… instinctual.

Sure. I had claimed Renn was my own… but was she not doing the same with me?

If anything I’d think she had more reins upon me than I her. If anyone should be given letters first it should be her.

Maybe in time Oplar would see the truth… if not… well…

“So um… Vim.”

“Hm?” I left my thoughts as Oplar shifted in her chair, and I noted the way her clear eyes glanced around. She was glancing around, as if in search of something to occupy her mind… but I knew the truth.

Oplar loved stories. She dedicated her life to the unnatural and unique. She was likely looking for something no one else had known, or noticed.

Like Renn’s hair in my bed. Others may not have even noticed such a thing, yet it was the first thing in this room she had seen.

“Rapti. She’s rather adamant in her claims,” Oplar said.

“I’m not a god, Oplar. If I was, I’d be a damned poor one,” I said to her.

“Right… but…” Oplar flinched and shook her head. “They don’t believe that.”

“They’re free to believe as they wish. But I’m not a god. I’ve always firmly said so,” I said.

Oplar sighed and nodded. “It’d make a poor story, true,” she admitted.

“Right?” I agreed.

Oplar glanced around again, and I noticed her eyes linger on the dresser near the fireplace. The main door of it was half ajar, thanks to Renn, but it was at an angle that I doubted Oplar could make much out. There was no way she could notice the heart. But she might still instinctively sense it, being a full blooded predator.

“Can… can I ask something personal, Vim?” she then asked.

“You just asked if I was a god, Oplar. How much more personal can you get?” I asked her back.

Oplar paused, and then she chuckled and nodded. “That’s true…!” she realized. She laughed a moment, then coughed and gestured at me. “Renn… and you. A pair,” she stated a fact.

“You could call it that, yes,” I said. I knew that’s how she, and those like her, would see it. A pair. Mates, or whatever.

“So um… Well…” Oplar hesitated, which wasn’t usually like her. Especially when she was pursuing some story.

Though…

I blinked as I realized this might not be a story to her.

Maybe Renn and my relationship with her wasn’t a story. Maybe it was something too personal to be such a thing to her.

It made sense, actually… Oplar loved delivering mail, since it let her exchange gossip and witness it firsthand herself half the time… but…

She never shared anything personal. Not like that.

Seeing her in a different light, I patiently waited for Oplar to find the words to her question.

“You… love her, right?” Oplar then asked, finally.

Although a little bothered that she had struggled so hard for such a simple question, I nodded calmly and didn’t smirk or shrug off her question.

To others it might have been something of a joke, or a way to tease me… but to Oplar, right now, it had been something serious.

Oplar studied me for a long moment… so I nodded again. “I do, Oplar. I really do,” I told her, to make sure she understood.

The bear gulped as if in awe… and then nodded back. “Okay…” she whispered.

Okay…? Was that all?

Before I could try and ask my way through her strangeness, Oplar coughed and slowly stood up. “Then I better not intrude much longer…” she said.

“Oplar,” I stopped her before she could step away.

She slowed to a stop before the door, and glanced back at me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked her.

Our Societies messenger hesitated, and shifted a little. Then she gave me a tiny smile. “I hadn’t believed it, Vim. And… to be honest I don’t think anyone else does either. Not yet,” she said.

“Is it really that strange?” I asked.

“No. That’s just it… It shouldn’t be. You’re still a man. Everyone, anyone, finds love and stuff… I guess… but…” Oplar shrugged, obviously unable to really explain it.

I nodded slowly, since I somehow understood what she was trying to get at.

“If you think I’m the odd one, you’re in for a shock,” I warned her.

Oplar smirked and nodded. “I’m looking forward to it. I plan to stick with you until Telmik, I think. Unless you have other plans,” she said.

“Hm. Look forward to it,” I said.

Oplar grinned and opened the door. She nodded at me one last time, then left.

Sighing as I listened to her heavy footsteps as she walked down the hallway, I glanced down at the pouch of letters on my lap.

“If anything it proves I’m no god. They couldn’t love anything, after all,” I said softly.

Though… that wasn’t true. I just didn’t want to admit it was.

“Did none of them, really?”

My breath caught as I looked up from the pouch and found Renn. She was smiling gently at me, her tail swaying behind her.

I see. So that was what Oplar meant by intruding.

She must have been waiting outside. Which meant I had not noticed her approach with Oplar. Or her slipping in after Oplar left.

Fascinating.

“Some had, yes,” I admitted to her.

Renn’s shoulders lowered a little, as if relived to hear the truth.

I gestured to the chair across from me, which Oplar had just vacated. Renn happily went to sitting in it.

“Everyone here is rather vocal about supporting you, Vim. Frett even broke her vow as to speak her opinion of it.”

“That’s foolish of her,” I said.

Renn furrowed a brow at me. “She had spoken lovingly. Very well. Even Sharp seemed to be moved by her words. They had brought tears to the eye,” she said.

I’m sure it had. To your eyes at least.

Glancing at the door, to make sure it was both shut… but also to make sure no one, like a certain bear, was listening behind it…

Once I was sure we really were alone… I sighed softly as I lifted the pouch Oplar had given me.

“If I give you this… will you promise to behave?” I asked my companion.

“Behave…?” Renn asked.

“No riling up the Society, Renn. I appreciate your devotion… and will always be very proud of you for standing up for what you believe in… But they have the right to their own wills and beliefs. Influencing them is…” I started to explain what I meant, but Renn’s soft smile made me go silent.

Staring at the woman who was suddenly staring at me the way my mother used to, I felt a strange tingle in the back of my neck.

What was with that look? And how was she able to have it?

“I… admit I am angry. And that I’m upset… and have lots of words planned to be said to certain people… but… I promise you Vim, I’ll not try to change anyone’s opinion. I promise,” she said seriously.

I had to drop the pouch, lest I crumple it and destroy it in my grip. The pouch fell to my lap, and luckily remained there and didn’t fall to the floor.

Renn nodded. “Really Vim… I know you well enough by now to know how you’d feel if I tried something like that. I’m surprised you’d even think I would,” she said.

“Hm… seems I’d not thought deep enough about it, had I?” I admitted.

She nodded, and her smile turned into a grin. “Obviously! But… it’s okay. I know you’ve got a lot on your mind right now.”

Honestly I didn’t. Right now all that was on it was her. Her. Her smell. Her body. That smile.

The way her tail was coiling around the chair’s leg. Did she do that consciously? It was coiling in the same way it did when she slept. The way it went around my leg. It wrapped around stuff sometimes, but usually not in that way. Not so slowly or so tightly. Was it because she was happy, insulted, or… was it simply because she was staring at me?

“What’s in the bag?” Renn asked, dragging me out of my thoughts.

I sighed. “Letters,” I said as I picked it back up and held it out to her.

Renn at first didn’t move. She stared at me with shocked eyes, her tail quickly uncoiled the chair… and her ears perked up. “Letters…?” she whispered.

I nodded, and leaned forward some more.

She slowly reached out, and with both hands she took the pouch from me.

“I have letters…?” she whispered.

Watching as Renn carefully sat back and clung to the pouch… I realized something… rather shocking.

Were those her first letters?

Ever?

Surely not… right…?

“The only letters I’ve ever gotten before had been… painful,” Renn then whispered as she ran her thumb along the pouch.

Frowning, I chose my next words carefully. “Sometimes bad news hurts… but in my experience bad news is better than no news,” I said.

Renn smiled gently as she finally tore her eyes from the pouch. Her left ear twitched as she smirked at me. “Remember the letters from the Sleepy Artist? The… ones that banished me?” she reminded me.

Oh.

I slowly nodded, and felt bad that I had forgotten. Yes. Lughes and the rest had indeed written letters as proof of her banishment. Lughes and had even wrote a letter to her, personally, to tell her his thoughts on it. I’d forgotten all about them.

If those were Renn’s only experience with letters, then… well…

I should have written her love notes, or something. Maybe I’ll start doing that from now on.

Renn gulped and sniffed as she turned the pouch over and found the little strap that secured it closed. She slowly undid it, and the pouch unfolded to reveal a rather large stack of different colored letters.

I quickly noticed the few familiar colors and papers of certain people. One was the same white as another letter, the one I had just tossed onto the desk earlier. Another was a gray that was similar to one of my own. Though the one I had gotten from the smithy was from Nebl, hers likely was from Lellip.

There had to be at least a dozen of them, and a few looked thick. Several pages of happy little letters for her to indulge in.

She sniffed again… and suddenly she was crying.

Although used to her tears, I still found myself a little unsettled. I shifted in my chair, and was thankful I didn’t accidentally break it while doing so.

Watching as she smiled and slowly moved the letters, as to read the few that had stuff written on the outer envelopes, I watched as she paused on one of the smaller ones.

Renn’s smile grew warmer, and her crying turned into sniffs as she lifted it a little… as to show it off to me.

“Lomi’s,” she told me.

I nodded slowly.

Her tail that had uncoiled from the leg of the chair, and had until now been resting on the floor, began to sway gently. “Almost a year later,” she said softly.

“Such time is what makes them all the more valuable,” I said.

She nodded. As she read the name on the letter again, and smiled. “Her handwriting is bad,” she said.

I said nothing as she went to slowly opening it. Renn did her best to not tear the envelope too roughly, likely because she planned to keep it, yet the sound of the paper as it tore told me it was of poor quality. The type of stuff that would rip and fade no matter how well kept.

Once opened she unfolded two pages of words… and something slipped out and onto her lap, on to the rest of the letters.

Renn tilted her head as she carefully picked up a few stalks of wheat.

Watching a small tear leak from her eyes as she closed them, and went to smelling the wheat, I noticed the way her tail hung motionless in the air as she took in its scent. Or at least, what little scent was likely even left of it.

After smelling it, Renn sighed. “How is it such things can have their own scent, even though they all smell the same?” she wondered.

“You’re likely smelling Lomi amongst it,” I said. Certain strands of wheat did of course have their own smell. It depended on their soils, and whatnot… but odds are the memory she smelled wasn’t the wheat, but those amongst it.

Renn smirked as she then turned the papers around and went to reading it.

I patiently waited as Renn slowly read both pages, and then read them again… and again.

Then on the fourth pass, she told me of their contents.

“She’s made herself at home. She talks of the rest as sisters and brothers. Porka as a mother… Even calls Trixalla a grandmother,” Renn said softly.

“That’s good,” I said.

She nodded, and sniffed again. “It really is…”

Expecting her to start sobbing again, I was a little surprised she didn’t as she lowered the letters a little… and then glanced at me.

“Hm…?” I tilted my head at her strange gaze. She had a smile but…

“The letter I sent her, Vim… I’d asked her a question. One in particularly, amongst… well… the other stuff I’d sent,” she said.

I nodded slowly.

“I’d wanted to know if she was upset that you hadn’t hunted down those who had burnt her village,” she told me.

I blinked.

“She tells me that you had someone named Meriah handle it for you,” Renn said.

“Rather I asked her to find out who had done it, so that I could handle it later,” I corrected. Had Meriah taken matters into her own hands? She was far from the hapless nun she appeared to be, but…

Usually she never did such a thing. She gathered information. That was it. For her to have done something… Either opportunity had shown itself, or she had been forced into a corner.

“I… I don’t think Lomi knows. She was simply told by Meriah that she and you have handled it. That her family, her village, can rest peacefully now,” Renn said as she lifted the letter.

“Hm…” I nodded, and wondered if any of my other letters had been from her, or about it. Meriah never told anyone, other than those who had been victims like Lomi, about what she did or found out. No one other than me at least. She never even told the Chronicler, and she saw her akin to a mother.

Yet when it came to the victims…

That was one of the small problems of utilizing Meriah. Her strange views of faith and ethics made it impossible to keep the stuff she found out truly a secret, since she shared it with those who were related to them.

Yet the Chronicler hadn’t mentioned anything about it… which meant Lomi likely hadn’t told anyone else yet.

“You… you were doing stuff, behind the scenes, Vim?” Renn asked me.

“I’ve not done anything yet. I simply asked Meriah to look into it for me,” I said.

“Who is Meriah?”

“A traveling nun. And that’s not just her persona. She’s genuinely a nun,” I said.

“So… you asked her to find out who had burnt Lomi’s village,” Renn said, understanding.

I nodded. “Thanks to us having to check on the surrounding members for safety reasons… and also because I had chosen to then head to Telmik. I had decided at the time, for now at least, the rest of the Society locations were safe. And that by the time I returned to the north Meriah or someone else would have found out the perpetrators… who I’d then handle once back there,” I explained.

Renn glanced at Lomi’s letter, read something upon it, and then looked back at me. “When’d you ask her to do this for you?”

“In Telmik. I left letters for her… just like I’d done for other things, such as that’s where I put the book I sent Rapti. Into Oplar’s office, for her to deliver it for me,” I explained.

“Why did you give Rapti a book that caused this vote to come to be?” she asked, changing topics a little.

I sighed. “I hadn’t meant for it to do that. Rapti had simply… wanted to know about a certain subject. One she’d never asked about before, not directly… And well…”

“You who so dearly cherishes ones freedom, especially in pursuit of knowledge, happily obliged her,” Renn finished for me.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“What was the book about?”

“The Monarchs.”

She frowned at me. “You barely tell me anything about them, yet you’ll give Rapti a whole book about them?” she asked.

“Firstly, Renn… you know more about Monarchs than anyone else right now. Other than maybe one or two others, at best, who are Monarchs themselves. Also, calling it a book is honestly rather overstating its importance. It’s rather a small journal, only a few dozen pages thick. Most of it is simple depictions of those I’ve encountered over the last few years. I had written it as something of a… report, for Celine, once. She had asked for it,” I said.

“What’s in it that would make Rapti believe you to be a god?” Renn asked.

I shrugged and shook my head.

“Vim…” Renn sighed at me.

“No. Really. It was basically just a… report. One I’d wrote half-assed for Celine. I explain how I tracked down, hunted, and killed half a dozen Monarchs… The only thing I can think of is she interpreted my snide remarks on a few of them wrongly, or something,” I said.

“What kind of snide remarks?”

Taking a small breath, I shifted again. This time though the chair complained. It didn’t break, but it did creak loudly.

“I think one of them… well… The creator. Of one of the Monarchs. It had been a god that I knew. I may have… made a small remark about it. But I don’t remember saying anything too revealing. If anything she likely just put what little knowledge she has together with the knowledge of others and… well…” I shrugged, not sure what else to say.

Renn sighed. “You admitted you recognized a god’s particular creation, because you knew that god. And yet still claim you aren’t one. No wonder, Vim,” Renn said.

“All the people here claim they know their god, yet are they gods?” I asked.

“They know their gods through their faith, Vim,” Renn said softly.

I wanted to scoff, but knew better than to do so.

Not because Renn would get angry at me… but because she was right.

“I was trying to be nice…” I whispered.

“Why does it seem so many tragedies happen because of your kindness, Vim?” Renn asked softly.

“Because it’s true. I shouldn’t have sent her the book. What more do you want me to say Renn?” I asked her and myself.

“I don’t want you to regret your decisions, Vim,” she told me.

“That’ll be the day,” I said.

Renn folded up Lomi’s letter, shuffling the papers a bit as she put them back into the thin envelope she had drawn them from.

Once she finished, she sighed softly as she lightly rubbed another. The blue one.

The one likely from Merit.

“Do you regret choosing me, Vim?” Renn asked me.

“I didn’t choose you Renn,” I said.

“Are you saying I forced you to love me?” she asked.

“No. I’m saying you weren’t there… then I blinked, and you were. And from that moment on you had my heart in your hands. I didn’t get to chose you, but I would choose you if able to again,” I said.

Renn’s ears fluttered. “If you wrote that journal with such beautiful words, I can see why Rapti would have such misguided thoughts,” Renn said softly.

I flinched. “Please Renn. Not you too,” I said.

Renn smiled at me. “You’re not a god, Vim. I know that. You’re too fragile. Too easily teased. Too easily abused… but…” she hesitated as she glanced at the letters.

“But…?”

She nodded. “But I can see why others would think so, Vim. I really can. You’re a mystery. Your lack of telling the truth… your hiding of your bloodline, your secrets… they’re the source of all this. Surely you realize it…?”

I blinked, and hesitated.

Was it…?

Well…

“Why not… tell everyone Vim? Maybe it would stop the vote if you did?” she asked.

I gulped.

“Yes it may cost you some support… or some trust… but Vim… you’re about to lose that anyway. You’ve lost it, already, from what I’ve heard. And from what I’ve seen, too, by the way. There are several who accept you as their Protector, but dislike you or what you have done… why can’t they do the same knowing what you are? You’d give their hate something to be directed at, while they still rely upon you all the same,” Renn said.

Staring at the woman who was very obviously saying something… logical… I did my best to not break the chair I was sitting on.

Doing my best to not move a muscle, lest I destroy the chair… and maybe even the floor beneath me… I held the gaze of the beautiful golden eyes that were digging into my soul. Or at least, whatever was left of it.

“Let me guess… it was brought up just now,” I said softly.

She nodded.

I wonder who it had been. Abel? Ursula? One of the others?

Did it matter…?

“Is it really so important Vim?” Renn asked.

“It’s not. But Renn…” I stopped myself from telling her the truth, and realized there was really no way to address it without doing so.

Honestly… Renn knowing didn’t bother me. Not anymore.

But…

“Normally Vim… I’d change topics. Since I know eventually, even if many years down the road, you’d tell me. But this isn’t about me. It’s not about us. It’s about something more. Something bigger,” she said gently.

“If I tell them, Renn… it won’t do what you think it will,” I said.

“Why not?”

Because it’d just make the rumors worse, of course.

Holding her gaze, I gestured at her letters. “Who else sent you letters?” I asked.

Renn blinked, and suddenly looked hurt.

Before she could say anything I raised a hand to stop her.

Taking a small breath, I nodded. “I’ll think about it. Give me… a little time. We’ll talk about it later. I promise.”

“Fine. If you break that promise I’ll stuff my tail in your mouth while you sleep,” she said, then went to grabbing another letter.

I shifted in my seat as I wondered what that would feel like.

“This one’s from Merit… and this one’s from Lellip,” Renn said as she went through her stack.

Nodding softly, I watched as she paused on one… and turned it around. It didn’t look like a real letter, but instead a simple card or…

“This one’s from Crane,” she said softly.

“Oh…?” I perked up at that. Crane? Really?

Renn sniffed and gulped, and then smiled gently at me. “Here,” she stood, and stepped over as to hand it to me.

I took it carefully, and noticed she was waiting for me to read it. Apprehensively.

Looking down at the card, I read Crane’s name. She had signed it… but nothing else.

Turning it over, I found a single sentence.

“I do not blame you for what happened, Renn. May we see each other again soon,” she had written.

Renn sniffed again, and giggled a little as I went to hand her back the note.

Instead of taking it though, Renn stepped forward… then bent forward to wrap me in a hug.

Making sure I didn’t break the chair on accident, or bend the card from Crane, I accepted her hug as she wrapped her arms around my neck.

Renn let out a tiny sob, but it was a happy one. I returned her hug, patting her gently on the back.

“See, Renn? Good news travels slowly. Always,” I said.

“Just like your love, Vim,” she agreed.

Well…

She chuckled, her tail happily dancing as I nodded and admitted it.

Yes. That was true too.

It really was.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep