Chapter 39: The Mother Who Knows Her Children

Morning found me sitting in one of the castle gardens, drinking tea like a respectable member of society.

Which should have immediately alerted everyone that something unusual was happening.

A knight had appeared outside my room earlier, informed me that the Great Sage requested my presence, then guided me through enough corridors to make me suspect the castle actively rearranged itself whenever I started learning the layout.

Eventually, he delivered me to a secluded garden tucked deeper within the royal grounds.

It was quieter than most of the places I had visited inside the castle.

Tall hedges separated the garden from the surrounding paths. Flowering trees formed patches of shade across carefully trimmed grass, while vines climbed pale stone arches along the edges. A small fountain stood near the center, water trickling softly from the mouth of a carved lion.

Because of course it was a lion.

If someone discovered a spoon in this kingdom without a lion engraved somewhere on the handle, I assumed the royal family would immediately launch an investigation.

A circular patio sat beneath a flowering tree.

That was where I had been instructed to wait.

A servant woman stood beside the table when I arrived.

She bowed.

“Sir Caled.”

I took the offered seat.

“Morning.”

She began preparing tea.

No questions.

No explanation.

Just the efficient movements of someone who had probably served mysterious royal meetings before and had learned that curiosity was best enjoyed privately.

A porcelain cup appeared in front of me.

Then a small plate of biscuits.

The tea smelled faintly herbal, mixed with something sweet I could not identify.

The servant poured carefully.

“The Great Sage will join you shortly.”

I looked toward the garden entrance.

“No dramatic entrance?”

The servant paused.

“I’m sorry?”

“Nothing.”

Probably better not to explain Zeria.

I picked up the cup.

Took a sip.

Not bad.

A little floral.

Slightly sweet.

Definitely the kind of drink served by people who owned furniture specifically designed for drinking tea.

I tried one of the biscuits next.

Crisp edges.

Soft middle.

Butter.

Honey.

Dangerous.

I took another.

If diplomacy eventually failed, I could probably be convinced to remain in this kingdom purely through baked goods.

Movement near the entrance caught my attention.

Golden hair.

Small figure.

Pink.

There she was.

Zeria entered the garden with several knights following several steps behind her.

The Great Sage had abandoned anything resembling formal mage clothing for the morning.

Instead, she wore a light pink dress decorated with tiny embroidered flowers along the hem and sleeves. The fabric moved around her knees as she walked, bright enough that she looked like spring had developed political authority.

And she was barefoot.

Again.

Of course.

Apparently footwear was one of the few systems of civilization Zeria had personally rejected.

The knights accompanying her stopped at the garden entrance.

Zeria continued alone.

She spotted me.

Smiled.

Then walked directly toward the table.

Before sitting, she looked toward the servant.

“You can leave us.”

The woman bowed.

“Of course, Great Sage.”

She gathered the unused serving items and departed quietly.

Zeria sat opposite me.

Immediately reached for the teapot.

Poured herself a cup.

Then took a sip before saying anything.

Her blue eyes widened.

“This is good.”

I looked at her.

“You chose it.”

“I know.”

“That usually reduces surprise.”

“No, because sometimes I choose things I haven’t tried yet.”

I nodded thoughtfully.

“That explains more about you than you realize.”

Zeria ignored that and took another sip.

I leaned back.

“So.”

She looked over the rim of the cup.

“What mysterious reason does the Great Sage have for summoning me into a private garden before breakfast has properly settled?”

Zeria lowered the cup.

Her smile became suspicious.

“I chose this tea specifically for you.”

“How thoughtful.”

“It helps people who haven’t slept enough.”

I froze.

Zeria smiled.

Very sweetly.

Far too sweetly.

I stared at her.

She stared back.

No accusation.

No explanation.

Nothing.

Just that little smile.

Oh.

She knew.

Or at least suspected.

Probably knew.

Great Sage.

Terrible person.

I took another sip.

“This tea is excellent.”

“I thought you would need it.”

“I have no idea what you’re implying.”

“I didn’t imply anything.”

“Your face did.”

“My face is innocent.”

“That sentence has lost legal standing.”

Zeria giggled.

Then, mercifully, moved on.

“Anyway.”

She placed both hands around her cup.

“I called you because something is beginning to change.”

That got my attention.

“What?”

“You.”

I pointed at myself.

“I’ve been changing since I arrived.”

“Not like that.”

She leaned slightly forward.

“You’re becoming known.”

Ah.

That.

Zeria’s playful expression faded just enough for the strategist underneath to appear.

“Not only in Inizio anymore.”

I listened.

“The events at Dahera Plane are spreading.”

She tapped one finger lightly against the table.

“An unknown Spriggan fighting Agranian generals is memorable.”

“That sounds flattering.”

“It is also dangerous.”

“Less flattering.”

Zeria nodded.

“Treez, Remgar, and Gia are not obscure soldiers.”

Fair.

“People know their names.”

“Unfortunately.”

“They also know Nemris.”

“Very unfortunately for anyone fighting her.”

Zeria smiled briefly.

Then became serious again.

“So when stories begin circulating about a lone Spriggan standing beside Nemris and defeating people of that level, others notice.”

I shrugged.

“I’ve already heard that powerful Spriggans can function alone.”

“Yes.”

“Nemris mentioned one.”

Zeria’s eyebrows lifted.

“The Shadow Fairy?”

“That’s the one.”

“She’s troublesome.”

“I gathered from the name.”

“She is very strong.”

“Nemris said she has seen her do more impressive things than I’ve shown.”

Zeria nodded without hesitation.

“So your power alone will not reveal you.”

Good.

“That’s comforting.”

“For now.”

There it was.

The Great Sage’s favorite hobby.

Attaching uncomfortable endings to reassuring sentences.

I picked up another biscuit.

“What’s the problem, then?”

Zeria’s fingers tightened slightly around the teacup.

“Azalea.”

I chewed.

Swallowed.

“The Spriggan nation.”

“Yes.”

She looked toward the garden fountain.

“Your current identity works well inside Inizio because most people do not know enough about individual Azaleans to question it.”

I nodded.

“Nemris does.”

“Yes, but even she only knows some famous figures and general cultural information.”

Zeria looked back at me.

“She does not personally know every Azalean.”

“Reasonable.”

“Efelia does.”

I stopped.

“Efelia.”

“The Fairy Queen.”

Right.

New problem unlocked.

Zeria continued.

“Queen Efelia is the ruler of Azalea.”

Her voice softened slightly.

“But that title doesn’t completely explain how Azaleans view her.”

I waited.

Zeria smiled.

“Azalea considers itself a family.”

“A literal family?”

“Emotionally.”

She raised one finger.

“An Azalean can meet another Azalean they have never spoken to and still call them brother or sister.”

I thought about Gusta calling me brother immediately.

Yeah.

That tracked.

Zeria continued.

“They do not view national identity the same way most kingdoms do.”

Her fingers drew a small circle on the table.

“A Wolfkin of one village may feel little connection to a Wolfkin living across the continent.”

“Sure.”

“A Lionkin in Agran would not automatically consider a Lionkin from Inizio family.”

“Definitely not.”

“But Azalean Spriggans?”

She smiled.

“Family first.”

I nodded slowly.

“And Efelia is…”

“The mother.”

I stared.

Zeria laughed.

“I know how it sounds.”

“It sounds like an entire country agreed to emotionally adopt itself.”

“That is not entirely inaccurate.”

Interesting.

Zeria took another sip.

“Efelia takes that responsibility seriously.”

“How seriously?”

“She knows her people.”

“All of them?”

“Yes.”

I blinked.

“How many Azaleans are there?”

“Enough that you should be impressed.”

“I am.”

Zeria set the cup down.

“She knows their families, their histories, where most of them live, which clans they belong to, who leaves the nation, who returns.”

I leaned back.

“So if she hears about Caled Morningwood, mysterious Azalean Spriggan diplomat…”

“She will ask herself which family produced you.”

“And get nothing.”

“Yes.”

“Then ask which settlement.”

“Nothing.”

“Clan.”

“Nothing.”

“Parents.”

Zeria smiled.

“Nothing.”

I rubbed my face.

“Fantastic.”

“It gets worse.”

“Of course it does.”

“She may not immediately assume you are human.”

Good.

“But she will know you are lying about being Azalean.”

Less good.

Zeria folded her hands.

“And if the Fairy Queen publicly declares that you are not one of hers…”

My eyes narrowed.

“Then everyone starts asking what I actually am.”

“Exactly.”

That could become inconvenient very quickly.

A powerful lone Spriggan was unusual but acceptable.

A powerful man pretending to be Spriggan while the Fairy Queen herself said he was not?

That would invite theories.

Lots of theories.

And after Rel had already casually introduced the possibility of a living human into conversation, at least one very intelligent woman on the continent might connect things faster than I would enjoy.

I sighed.

“So the fake identity protects me right up until the person with the world’s most obsessive family registry notices I don’t exist.”

Zeria nodded cheerfully.

“Yes.”

“Wonderful system.”

“It has worked so far.”

“Comforting.”

She leaned closer.

“Which is why we should solve the problem before Efelia solves it herself.”

That sounded ominous.

“How?”

“Tell her.”

I stared.

Zeria smiled.

“The truth.”

I glanced toward the entrance.

The knights were far enough away.

Still.

“You want me to walk into Azalea and tell the Fairy Queen I’m human.”

“Yes.”

“I enjoy how casually you say dangerous things.”

“It is safer than letting her discover the lie first.”

Fair.

I hated when she made sense.

Zeria continued.

“After the situation with Agran is settled, you should visit Azalea.”

“So not now.”

“No.”

She shook her head.

“One crisis at a time.”

Excellent philosophy.

“I like that.”

“You meet Efelia privately.”

“And tell her everything?”

“Enough.”

Important distinction.

“You tell her you are human.”

Zeria looked straight at me.

“You explain why your identity must remain secret.”

“And then ask her not to expose me.”

“Yes.”

I lifted one eyebrow.

“And you think she’ll agree?”

“I think she can be persuaded.”

“Through goodwill?”

Zeria made a face.

“No.”

I laughed.

“At least you’re honest.”

“The Fairy Queen is not cruel.”

“That sounded like another sentence with an uncomfortable second half.”

“She is proud.”

There it was.

Very proud, judging from Zeria’s expression.

I leaned back.

“So what do I offer?”

“Alliance.”

I paused.

“With Azalea.”

“With you.”

Zeria pointed toward me.

“That is important.”

I looked at myself.

“Personal alliance.”

“Yes.”

“Not me becoming an official citizen?”

“No.”

“Not swearing loyalty?”

“No.”

“Not joining their military?”

“No.”

I smiled.

“Now we’re speaking my language.”

Zeria giggled.

“You offer Efelia something much more tempting.”

“What?”

“The right to claim you publicly as Azalean.”

I stopped.

Then slowly leaned back.

“Huh.”

Zeria’s smile became very pleased.

There it was.

Great Sage solving political problems with ego manipulation.

Beautiful.

I pointed at her.

“You want me to tell her I’m human in private.”

“Yes.”

“Ask her to keep the secret.”

“Yes.”

“And in exchange, she gets to announce to the world that Caled Morningwood is absolutely an Azalean Spriggan.”

“Yes.”

I thought about that.

“She gets bragging rights.”

Zeria’s smile widened.

“Exactly.”

I laughed.

“That’s your plan?”

“Do not underestimate pride.”

“I never do.”

Especially after meeting nobles.

Zeria continued.

“Imagine the situation from Efelia’s perspective.”

She spread her hands.

“A mysterious Spriggan appears.”

“Handsome.”

Zeria ignored that.

“Powerful.”

“I noticed you skipped handsome.”

“Caled.”

“Continue.”

“He defeats elite Agranian generals.”

“Accurate.”

“He becomes close to Inizio’s royal family.”

“Also accurate.”

“He receives attention from multiple kingdoms.”

I nodded.

“And then Efelia discovers that this person is actually something far more extraordinary.”

“Human.”

“Yes.”

She leaned forward.

“And she is offered the opportunity to make the entire continent believe that this extraordinary person belongs to Azalea.”

I whistled quietly.

“Okay.”

Zeria’s eyes glittered.

“You understand.”

“Very much.”

Efelia would get to claim something nobody else could claim.

A living human.

Except publicly, nobody would know that was what she had claimed.

They would just believe Azalea had produced an absurdly unusual Spriggan.

A source of national pride.

A political symbol.

And I would get a queen personally certifying my fake identity.

That was much stronger than simply pretending.

I looked at Zeria.

“So once the Fairy Queen says I’m Azalean, nobody can really challenge it.”

“Not reasonably.”

“What if someone asks where I grew up?”

“Azalea can provide an answer.”

“Family?”

“They can provide one.”

“History?”

“Provided.”

I smiled slowly.

“That is dirty.”

Zeria looked pleased.

“Efficient.”

“It’s identity laundering.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

She took another biscuit.

I thought through the idea.

No commitment.

No oath.

No obligation beyond letting Azalea publicly claim me as one of theirs.

In return, Efelia protected the secret because revealing it would destroy her own claim and potentially unleash exactly the chaos she had been offered the chance to avoid.

Mutual benefit.

Strong incentive.

Simple lie.

I nodded.

“So me being Azalea’s greatest bragging right is enough.”

“More than enough.”

Zeria bit the biscuit.

“The Fairy Queen is extraordinarily proud of her people.”

She chewed.

Swallowed.

“If she can tell every ruler on the continent that the powerful new Spriggan belongs to her nation, she will enjoy doing so.”

“That sounds petty.”

“It is political.”

“Those are cousins.”

Zeria smiled.

“More importantly, her public recognition would eliminate the most dangerous weakness in your current disguise.”

“My missing history.”

“Yes.”

She pointed lightly at me.

“Right now, anyone can ask where you came from.”

“And find nothing.”

“After Efelia claims you?”

“They would have to question the Fairy Queen herself.”

Zeria’s grin turned mischievous.

“Most people will not.”

I laughed.

“No kidding.”

“And theories about you being human would become far weaker.”

That mattered.

A lot.

“If someone says I might be human…”

“People will answer that Queen Efelia herself recognizes you as Azalean.”

“Which makes the theory sound stupid.”

“Exactly.”

I stared at my tea.

“Win-win.”

Zeria nodded.

“Win-win.”

“And I don’t actually owe Azalea anything beyond keeping up the public identity.”

“You should obviously avoid insulting them.”

“I’ll try.”

“But no.”

She shook her head.

“No permanent commitment.”

“Good.”

“No forced residence.”

“Better.”

“No obligation to serve Efelia.”

“Excellent.”

Zeria smiled.

“She gets prestige.”

“I get protection.”

“Yes.”

“And everyone else gets confused.”

“Also yes.”

I lifted my teacup.

“To confusion.”

Zeria tapped hers gently against mine.

“To protecting your secret.”

I drank.

Then lowered the cup.

“But for now…”

“Agran.”

“Exactly.”

One kingdom at a time.

One political disaster at a time.

Extremely healthy lifestyle.

Zeria stood from her chair.

She stretched both arms above her head.

Her pink floral dress pulled slightly with the movement.

She yawned.

Then, without warning, walked around the table.

I watched her.

“What?”

She said nothing.

Just smiled.

Then turned.

And sat directly on my lap.

I blinked.

Her back settled against my chest.

Then she grabbed both my arms and pulled them around herself until I was holding her.

Very casual.

Very Zeria.

I looked toward the garden entrance.

The knights saw us.

Every single one immediately became fascinated by architecture.

One stared at a hedge.

Another looked toward the sky.

A third turned his head so far away that I worried about his neck.

I lowered my voice.

“Zeria.”

“Hmm?”

“There are people here.”

“I know.”

“You are sitting on me.”

“I also know.”

“My arms are around you.”

She adjusted them herself.

“Better.”

I stared at the side of her face.

This woman.

“You have absolutely no shame.”

“I have some.”

“Where?”

“Somewhere.”

Useful answer.

Then her expression changed.

Her cheerful smile softened.

Zeria rested more heavily against me.

“I was lonely last night.”

Ah.

I tightened my arms slightly.

She turned her face enough to look at me.

Her lips formed a tiny pout.

“I missed you.”

My humor softened.

“I missed you too.”

Zeria’s eyes narrowed.

“Did you?”

“Yes.”

She looked suspicious.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“That is Nemris’s technique.”

“I learned it from her.”

Terrible.

Zeria played with my fingers.

Then spoke casually.

“I went to your balcony last night.”

I stopped.

Oh.

“I see.”

“I was going to sneak inside.”

Naturally.

Then her lips pouted harder.

“But Nemris was already there.”

Right.

So she definitely knew why I needed the sleep tea.

I looked toward her.

“You saw us?”

“I saw enough to know I should leave.”

Fair.

I studied her expression.

No anger.

No resentment.

No hurt directed at Nemris.

Still, I asked.

“Are you angry with her?”

Zeria blinked.

“Why?”

“For being in my room.”

“No.”

Immediate.

“Not even a little?”

“No.”

She genuinely looked confused by the possibility.

“I like Nemris.”

“I know.”

“And I know you.”

Dangerous sentence.

Zeria turned slightly in my lap.

“I don’t care how many women you bring into your room.”

I raised one eyebrow.

“That is surprisingly generous.”

“It’s true.”

She looked directly at me.

Then poked one finger against my chest.

“But.”

There it was.

The universal warning word.

“But?”

Her expression became serious.

“You cannot neglect me.”

I stared.

Zeria continued.

“I need attention too.”

She poked me again.

“Close attention.”

There was nothing possessive in it.

No demand that I choose her.

No jealousy toward Nemris.

Just Zeria openly announcing that she wanted her share of affection too.

Which was extremely Zeria.

I smiled.

Then wrapped my arms tighter around her.

She immediately relaxed.

“Better?”

“Yes.”

Her answer came instantly.

I kissed the side of her head.

Zeria smiled.

I looked toward the knights.

Still not looking.

Very disciplined men.

I leaned closer to her ear.

“How about we disappear for a while?”

Zeria’s eyes brightened.

Dangerously.

“Disappear?”

“Just us.”

Her smile became mischievous.

“Oh.”

I knew that look.

She leaned toward me.

“I know a secret tunnel nearby.”

Of course she did.

Zeria probably had secret tunnels cataloged by emotional purpose.

Street food tunnel.

Escape Nemris tunnel.

Romantic misbehavior tunnel.

I laughed.

“No need.”

She frowned.

“What?”

I loosened my arms.

Then stood.

Zeria slipped from my lap and stood beside me.

She looked up.

Curious.

I activated a skill.

Magic spread over my body.

Then hers.

The effect moved like transparent water washing across us from head to toe.

My hands faded first.

Then my arms.

Clothing disappeared with me.

Zeria looked down as her pink dress vanished from sight.

Her eyes widened.

“Ooh.”

Within seconds, both of us were completely invisible.

I looked toward where I knew Zeria was standing.

I could see her.

Interesting.

She giggled from empty air.

The knights near the entrance suddenly straightened.

One blinked.

Another stared at the patio.

The Great Sage and the diplomat had apparently ceased existing between one breath and the next.

I reached toward Zeria.

Her fingers immediately closed around mine.

I smiled.

“Let’s have a lot of fun together.”