The inn’s walls were thin, and Whisperfen’s fog had a way of listening.
Derpy lay on his bed with his hands folded over his stomach, staring at the ceiling like it might give him answers.
Every time he closed his eyes, his brain replayed everything like it was trying to punish him for surviving:
Vespera’s voice saying dragon authority like it was a sentence.
Lenora saying tea date like it was a battlefield order.
The kiss—warm, clumsy, real—like it had rewritten something in him without asking permission.
And then there was the mouse girl.
The way she’d shoved the flowers into his arms and ran like kindness was a crime.
Derpy rubbed his wrists.
Celica’s mark stayed yellow.
Quiet.
Satisfied.
That was the worst part.
It felt like Celica’s Embers was sitting somewhere behind his ribs, smiling to herself, watching him spiral.
What do you want from me? Derpy thought.
The bracelets warmed faintly, like they heard him.
Derpy groaned and shoved his face into the pillow.
Then the door opened.
Derpy jerked upright. “I locked that—”
Lenora stepped in first, cheeks already pink like she’d been arguing with herself in the hallway.
Vespera followed behind her, arms crossed, expression set in stone.
Derpy blinked. “Uh… hello?”
Lenora cleared her throat too hard. “We’re showing you something.”
Derpy’s stomach dropped. “Why does that sound like a threat?”
Vespera’s jaw tightened. “Because it is.”
Then Vespera stepped forward.
And Derpy’s brain stalled.
She was wearing a maid outfit.
It wasn’t a costume. It was tailored—black and deep blue with subtle red-and-green accents that echoed her hair, like someone tried to make humiliation look like uniform. The bodice was fitted, the skirt layered with ruffles trimmed in blue, the apron crisp and pale, tied tight at her waist. A high collar sat at her throat with a small blue bow.
And her face—
She was blushing.
Hard.
Like her pride was actively trying to climb out of her skin and die somewhere private.
Vespera’s wings were tucked tight, tail stiff, eyes burning.
“I am a soldier,” Vespera snapped, voice cracking with fury and embarrassment, “NOT A MAID!”
Derpy stared.
Then his face went hot.
Then hotter.
Then his brain tried to reboot and failed.
Lenora stepped forward next, and Derpy’s soul left his body.
Lenora had picked one too.
Pink.
Fluffy.
Like a weaponized dessert.
The dress was soft pastel pink with a puffed skirt and white lace trim. The apron was bright and clean, tied in a bow at the back. The sleeves were slightly puffed at the shoulders, and there were fluffy accents at the cuffs and hem like someone had decided cute should be a combat stance.
It even had a little headpiece—small, frilly, and ridiculous.
Lenora’s hands were clenched at her sides like she was bracing for impact.
Her ears were rigid.
Her face was already full pink.
And when she tried to speak, she stuttered so hard it was like her tongue tripped over her own courage.
“I— I— it’s— it’s not— I mean—”
Derpy blinked. “Lenora…”
Lenora’s cheeks went even pinker. “I picked it because— because—”
They both stared at him.
Waiting.
Demanding.
Lenora finally managed, voice small and mortified, “What do you think?”
Derpy opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
His face went nuclear.
Heat climbed up his neck, into his ears, into his skull.
His vision blurred.
And then—
Steam.
Actual steam.
It blasted out of him like his embarrassment had become weather.
The room fogged instantly.
Lenora yelped.
Vespera swore.
The steam hit them like a wall and shoved them backward.
They stumbled out into the hallway, coughing, waving their hands, slamming the door shut from the outside like they were sealing a monster in a cage.
Inside, Derpy sat on the bed, face buried in his hands, dying.
Mia stared at him like pathetic.
Sphinx sat on the bed like he’d witnessed a crime.
Outside the door, Lenora and Vespera stood in the hallway, both red-faced for different reasons.
Vespera pointed at the door. “That was your fault.”
Lenora snapped, “My fault? You walked in like— like—”
“Like what?” Vespera hissed.
Lenora’s face went full pink again. “Like you were trying to— to—”
“To what?” Vespera leaned in, eyes sharp. “Make him blush?”
Lenora’s jaw clenched. “Well it worked!”
Vespera scoffed. “He blushed because I was there first.”
Lenora’s ears flattened. “No, he blushed because I— because I—”
Vespera’s eyes narrowed. “Because you what?”
Lenora’s cheeks went even pinker. “Because I’m cute!”
There was a beat of silence.
Then Vespera blinked.
Then Lenora blinked.
Then both of them—against all logic—laughed.
Not polite laughter.
Real laughter.
The kind that shook the tension loose for a second.
Lenora wiped at her eyes, still red-faced. “It’s been… a long time since I had fun like that.”
Vespera’s mouth twitched into something almost soft. “Same.”
The laughter died fast.
Whisperfen didn’t let joy linger.
They stood there for a moment, breathing, letting the absurdity settle.
Then Lenora’s ears twitched.
Her face hardened back into leader mode.
She grabbed the doorknob.
“Derpy,” she called through the door, voice stern. “Open up.”
No answer.
Vespera’s eyes narrowed. “Human?”
Lenora yanked the door open.
The room was empty.
The window was open.
The curtains fluttered.
Mia was at the sill, tail wagging once like she’d helped.
Sphinx sat on the bed like he’d witnessed a second crime.
Lenora stared.
Vespera stared.
Lenora’s voice went quiet. “…He jumped out the window.”
Vespera’s jaw tightened. “Of course he did.”
Lenora rushed to the window and looked out.
Derpy was already moving through the fog like a guilty thought, heading into Whisperfen’s streets with his hood up and his hands in his pockets.
Lenora’s cheeks went pink again—half anger, half worry.
She snapped her gaze away from the window like it offended her and growled, “Idiot.”
Vespera’s rings rotated once, displeased. “He’s looking for the Calamity.”
Lenora’s ears pinned back. “Or he’s running from embarrassment.”
Vespera’s mouth twitched. “Both can be true.”
Lenora turned sharply. “We go after him.”
Vespera nodded once. “Agreed.”
By the time they moved, both women were already changing back into armor and black dress—because outside, the town didn’t care about contracts.
Derpy didn’t know where he was going.
He just knew he couldn’t stay in that room.
Not with his heart doing backflips and his face trying to become a furnace.
Not with Celica’s mark warm on his wrists like it was laughing at him.
He walked through Whisperfen’s fog, trying to focus on the mission.
Find the Calamity.
Find the pull.
Find the—
A sound cut through the mist.
A muffled sob.
Derpy froze.
He turned toward it, moving slowly, careful.
The fog thinned just enough to reveal an alley.
And there—
Her cloak was torn.
Her dress was ripped at the shoulder.
Her cheeks were red with humiliation.
A mouse girl pressed to the wall like she wanted to merge with it, clutching something to her chest.
Derpy’s stomach dropped.
He took a step forward.
“Hey,” he whispered.
The mouse girl flinched like she expected a hit.
Derpy’s hands lifted slowly, palms open.
“I’m not— I’m not here to hurt you,” he said, voice shaking. “I just—”
Her lips trembled.
She tried to speak.
No words came out.
She just cried harder.
And Derpy, standing in the fog with Celica’s mark warm on his wrists, realized something cold and sharp:
Whisperfen hadn’t forgotten his kindness.
It had just waited for the right moment to punish it.