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Until My Heart Beats No More

---

The First of the Fatui Harbingers rarely remained at court receptions longer than necessary. Military reports, orders to garrisons, and endless meetings occupied most of his time, while he gladly left conversations with aristocrats to Pantalone. Capitano knew how to observe court etiquette and treated it with due respect, but found little pleasure in idle conversation. Usually, he would greet Her Majesty, exchange a few words with his colleagues, and leave the hall at the first opportunity.

Recently, however, that habit had begun to change.

It had started several months ago, when you began attending council meetings and official ceremonies more frequently. Capitano had known you since your childhood, but previously, your encounters had been limited to respectful greetings and occasional conversations in the Tsaritsa's presence. Now, he increasingly found himself noticing you speaking with ambassadors, walking through the palace galleries, or stopping to listen to the musicians after formal receptions. He discovered that he enjoyed listening to your opinions, even when the subject had nothing to do with his duties.

At first, Capitano thought little of it. Then, one evening, as he was leaving another reception, he caught himself searching for you among the guests, despite knowing perfectly well that you had already departed. After that incident, the First Harbinger began paying closer attention to his own behavior.

He had no intention of courting the daughter of his sovereign. Over five centuries, Capitano had learned how fragile human attachments could be. He remembered his duty to his fallen comrades, to Khaenri'ah, and to those who had entrusted him with their lives. There was hardly enough time left in his existence for personal happiness. Besides, he had no wish to burden you with the attention of a man whose past was bound to endless wars and a curse.

Nevertheless, he continued lingering at receptions. Sometimes, he would stand beside a distant column from which he had a clear view of the hall. Other times, he would find a reason to pass through the inner courtyard, where you enjoyed spending time after council meetings. He never attempted to intrude upon your privacy and kept his distance, allowing himself only brief glances and a few additional minutes nearby.

One day, Pantalone noticed.

"How remarkable, Captain. I believe this is the first time I've seen you at three receptions in a single week," the Ninth remarked, stopping beside him near a tall window. He held a glass of wine that he had barely touched. "Have courtly entertainments finally managed to win your favor?"

"I am here on official business," Capitano replied without moving.

"Naturally. Although, to my knowledge, the representatives of the military department left the palace over an hour ago," Pantalone continued, curiously surveying the few guests standing nearby.

Capitano turned his head toward him.

"Do you have business with me, Pantalone?"

"Nothing urgent. I merely wished to know when you intend to sign the documents concerning the northern garrison's funding," the banker replied, adjusting the cuff of his coat.

"You will have them tomorrow morning," Capitano informed him.

"Excellent."

Pantalone smiled and followed the direction in which Capitano had been looking before his arrival. On the opposite side of the hall, you were speaking with several courtiers.

"Well, I certainly wouldn't wish to distract you from your exceptionally important duties," the Ninth remarked with undisguised amusement.

The First Harbinger remained silent. Pantalone, satisfied with the effect of his remark, departed before Capitano could respond.

Capitano would have preferred to forget that conversation. However, it was during that very reception that he first noticed something suspicious.

On the upper gallery stood a man dressed in the uniform of a palace servant. His presence alone was hardly unusual: during formal celebrations, dozens of employees moved between the halls. Yet this man had remained beside the same column for nearly fifteen minutes. He served no guests, carried no messages, and barely spoke to the other servants. From time to time, he took a small notebook from his pocket, made a brief entry, and returned his attention to the events below.

Capitano followed his gaze.

The servant was watching you.

The First Harbinger knew that particular spot well. Several days earlier, he himself had lingered beside the same column after hearing your voice downstairs following a council meeting. It offered an excellent view of the central hall, while visitors on the lower floor rarely paid attention to those standing above them.

He summoned the nearest guard officer.

"Who is responsible for the staff assigned to the upper gallery?" Capitano asked, indicating the balcony with a slight movement of his hand.

"The senior steward, Lord Capitano. Has something happened?" The officer straightened, following the direction of his gesture.

"Check the man beside the northern column. Find out his name, his position, and who authorized his presence at this event," the First Harbinger ordered, looking toward the stranger once more.

"At once, sir," the officer replied before immediately leaving to carry out his instructions.

By the time the officer returned with the steward, the stranger had disappeared. According to the staff records, none of the employees assigned to the upper gallery matched his description. The steward suggested that Capitano might have seen a worker from another department, but the First Harbinger ordered the information to be verified.

Several days later, he noticed a similar irregularity near the palace library. A man in a dark cloak left the corridor almost immediately after you appeared. It was later discovered that the visitor had presented a temporary pass issued by one of the administrative departments. The department itself existed, but no employee by that name was registered there.

Capitano immediately ordered a discreet investigation. He instructed one of his most trusted officers to determine who had issued the passes and approached Pierro to request access to the internal security archives.

"Do you believe there are enemy agents operating inside the palace?" the Director of the Fatui asked, examining the documents Capitano had brought him.

"I do not yet have sufficient evidence to make that claim. However, two individuals have used questionable credentials to access areas frequently visited by Her Highness," Capitano answered, standing on the opposite side of the desk.

"Should Her Majesty be informed?" Pierro set one of the documents aside and raised his gaze.

"Certainly. However, I would ask that we limit the number of people made aware of this investigation. If these individuals have an accomplice among the palace staff, an open inquiry would give them an opportunity to destroy the evidence," the First Harbinger explained.

Pierro studied him carefully over the documents.

"Have you spoken to the princess?"

"Not yet. I have no intention of alarming her without sufficient cause," Capitano answered after a brief pause.

"Then see to it that you find sufficient cause before anything serious happens," the Director said, returning the documents to his desk.

Capitano inclined his head. The warning was justified.

The investigation continued for almost three weeks. During that time, two more forged passes were discovered, along with several unusual changes to the palace guards' schedules and the disappearance of certain pieces of official correspondence. No direct connection between the incidents could be established. Whoever was responsible acted cautiously, knew the palace's internal arrangements well, and apparently had access to information that should have remained confidential.

The most troubling discovery was that every suspicious incident coincided with one of your public appearances. Strangers appeared along the routes you regularly took and disappeared shortly afterward. Capitano began reviewing reports after every reception and eventually noticed a pattern that had previously escaped the guards' attention.

Someone was studying your daily routine.

And if the First Harbinger had not been paying such close attention to you for entirely personal reasons, he might not have noticed it in time either.

---

On the evening of a reception held to celebrate the return of a diplomatic delegation, Capitano arrived at the palace considerably earlier than the other Harbingers.

Preparations were still underway in the grand hall. Servants arranged glasses, musicians tuned their instruments, and the steward irritably explained to two young assistants why the floral arrangements could not be carried through the main entrance. Capitano walked along the walls, inspected the positions of the guards, and paused near the western corridor.

It was here that signs of interference with the service-pass system had been discovered the previous day.

"No changes to the guard rotation without my authorization tonight," he warned the officer on duty, stopping beside the door. "Especially in the western wing. If anyone presents an order signed by another commander, contact me first."

"Understood, Lord Capitano," the officer confirmed, adjusting the belt of his uniform.

"And inspect the upper gallery before the guests arrive," Capitano added.

The officer saluted and headed toward the staircase.

By the beginning of the reception, the palace was filled with voices. Hundreds of lights reflected in the tall windows, steam rose from the hot dishes on the tables, and the hems of evening gowns brushed softly against the marble floors. Thick snow fell outside. Capitano positioned himself beside one of the side columns, from which he could observe the main entrances and most of the hall.

He noticed your arrival almost immediately.

You entered accompanied by several courtiers and soon approached the diplomats awaiting their introductions. The First Harbinger watched you greet the guests for a few seconds before forcing himself to concentrate on security once more. He was about to address a nearby officer when he heard a familiar voice.

"Captain."

Pantalone had stopped before him. His attire was impeccable, and his expression suggested that the evening had been progressing rather pleasantly.

"I've been informed that you ordered an inspection of every financial authorization concerning the western wing's services. I presume this is related to your investigation?" the Ninth inquired, taking his place beside him.

"Yes. The inspection is necessary," Capitano replied briefly.

"My employees are quite displeased. One of them claims he was questioned for nearly twenty minutes over an incorrectly completed invoice for champagne," Pantalone remarked, shaking his head slightly.

"If the documents are genuine, he has nothing to fear," the First Harbinger countered.

"How reassuring to hear that from someone who has never had to deal with financial accounting," Pantalone replied with a faint smile.

Capitano had no opportunity to respond. You had approached while making your way toward another group of guests, and both Harbingers greeted you respectfully.

"Your Highness," Capitano said, bowing his head.

"Captain. Pantalone," you greeted them both, stopping beside them. "It's good to see you. I hope I haven't interrupted anything important?"

"Nothing that couldn't wait until tomorrow, Your Highness," Pantalone replied courteously, offering a slight bow. "We were discussing a few administrative matters."

"And yet you both look as though you're still working, even during a celebration," you observed with a small smile before turning to the First Harbinger. "Captain, by the way, I heard your northern divisions returned recently. How are things at the border?"

"Thank you for your concern, Your Highness. The divisions returned without significant losses. The situation is currently stable, and no new threats have been detected," Capitano answered.

"That's good news. I hope the soldiers will be given some time to rest after their return," you said.

"Of course. I have already ordered that they be granted their allotted leave," he confirmed, inclining his head slightly.

Under ordinary circumstances, this would have been enough to conclude the conversation. However, just as you were preparing to continue on your way, he spoke again.

"Forgive me, Your Highness. Do you intend to remain at the reception until it ends?"

The question was unexpected even to Pantalone.

"I believe so. Mother asked me to attend the final part of the evening," you replied, adjusting the edge of your sleeve. "Although I may step out of the hall for a little while. It's rather crowded in here."

Capitano listened to your answer and gave a slight nod.

"Thank you. In that case, I wish you a pleasant evening."

"And you as well, Captain," you replied before bidding both Harbingers farewell and continuing on your way.

Once you had moved away, the Ninth Harbinger slowly turned toward him.

"Do you intend to examine the schedule of every guest in attendance, Captain? I'm afraid we won't be finished by midnight," Pantalone remarked, watching you leave.

"The question concerned security," Capitano answered.

"I haven't the slightest doubt," the banker said, adjusting his glasses.

This time, Capitano gave him a look pointed enough to make Pantalone stop smiling.

"I am serious, Ninth. If you notice any unfamiliar individuals near the western gallery, inform the guards immediately."

Pantalone paused briefly before placing his glass on the tray of a passing servant.

"I see. So it really is serious."

"I would prefer to be mistaken," Capitano replied.

"I'll be more attentive," Pantalone promised, giving him a nod.

That concluded their conversation. Pantalone went to greet the representatives of the merchants' association, while Capitano resumed his inspection.

Approximately an hour passed. The musicians replaced the ceremonial compositions with calmer melodies, some of the guests moved into the adjoining drawing room, and the stewards began preparing to serve the next course. Capitano was speaking with an officer near the main staircase when a young guardsman hurried toward them.

"Lord Capitano, forgive the interruption. There has been a change of guard posts in the western wing," he reported, stopping before the First Harbinger.

The First Harbinger turned toward him.

"Who issued the order?"

"According to the log, the deputy chief of palace security. Maintenance work is being carried out on the heating system, and the staff needed the corridor cleared," the guardsman replied, retrieving a folded sheet from his folder.

"Show me the order," Capitano demanded, extending his hand.

The guardsman handed him the folded sheet. Capitano examined the seal, the signature, and the time indicated. The document appeared genuine, but the deputy chief of security had personally assured him that morning that no changes were planned for the day.

"When were the posts cleared?" Capitano asked, raising his head from the document.

"Approximately ten minutes ago," the guardsman answered.

"And where is Her Highness now?" The First Harbinger folded the sheet in half.

"As far as I know, she has left the main hall. She was seen near the western staircase," the young soldier reported.

Capitano folded the order and returned it to the guardsman.

"Seal every service exit from the western wing. No one is to leave until their documents have been inspected. Inform the chief of security that he is to report here immediately."

"Yes, sir!" The guardsman straightened and hurried off to relay the orders.

The First Harbinger was already heading toward the staircase when the guardsman called after him.

"Lord Capitano! Will you require an escort?"

"Send two men to the upper gallery. The others are to remain at their posts," Capitano replied without stopping.

His footsteps quickly faded down the corridor.

The western wing was connected to the main hall by a long, glass-enclosed gallery. There were usually fewer people here in the evenings: the rooms were intended for private audiences, and most guests preferred to remain near the musicians. Tonight, however, some of the lights were inexplicably extinguished, leaving only a few wall lamps to illuminate the passage.

Capitano stopped beside a service door. Fresh scratches marked the handle, and the lock had not been properly secured. He checked the adjoining room and discovered a toolbox abandoned on the floor. Among the ordinary keys and screwdrivers lay a narrow metal strip that could be used to open the interior bolts.

Footsteps sounded somewhere farther down the corridor.

"Your Highness?" he called, stepping into the gallery.

You were standing beside one of the tall windows, not far from the turn leading to the winter garden. Apparently, you had decided to leave the crowded reception for a little while. It was cooler here, and the snow-covered palace terraces were clearly visible through the glass.

Capitano approached you while simultaneously examining the doors and staircase at the opposite end of the gallery.

"Please return to the main hall. Certain circumstances have arisen in the western wing that require investigation," he informed you as he drew closer.

He spoke calmly, although he did not slow his pace. You turned toward him, somewhat surprised by his sudden appearance.

"Captain? What's happened?" you asked, stepping away from the window. "Is it unsafe here?"

He was about to explain the situation in greater detail when a faint metallic click sounded overhead.

Capitano raised his head.

On the upper passage, partially concealed behind an ornamental railing, stood a man holding a crossbow. The weapon was aimed directly at you, and the shooter's finger was already resting on the trigger.

"Get down!" Capitano shouted, lunging forward.

Capitano covered the remaining distance in several strides. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you sharply behind the nearest stone column, shielding you with his body. The crossbow bolt flew past his shoulder and struck the wooden window frame with a sharp crack.

The sudden movement sent you both against the wall. Capitano prevented you from falling, turning at the same time to place himself entirely between you and the upper passage. A web of cracks spread across the glass. The scrape of shoes came from the gallery above, and somewhere in the darkness, the crossbow mechanism clicked once more.

The First Harbinger drew his sword. The attacker's figure briefly appeared along the narrow passage, but he could not fire again without changing his position. Capitano quickly assessed the distance to the nearest door, the position of the column, and the possibility of getting you out of the line of fire.

"Stay behind me," he instructed, stepping back slightly to shield you from the shooter.

Only then did he allow himself to look at you. His arm was still supporting you around the waist, while the fingers of his other hand gripped the hilt of his sword firmly. His face was impossible to see behind the dark visor, but an unfamiliar urgency had entered his voice.

"Your Highness, look at me. Are you injured?"

He carefully moved his hand to your shoulder, checking whether you could stand steadily. Footsteps sounded again from the upper gallery. Capitano immediately turned his head toward the noise, keeping you sheltered behind the column.

"Answer me, please. Does anything hurt?"

When the knight did not come

---

Three days before the attack, Capitano came to your chambers considerably later than the agreed time. The last meeting with the commanders of the northern garrisons had dragged on until almost midnight, and you were already preparing to go to bed when there was a quiet knock at the door.

He entered wearing his familiar dark armor, with traces of snow on his cloak. He apologized for being late, placed several documents he intended to review in the morning on the table, and stopped beside the fireplace to remove his gloves.

"You haven't had dinner again?" you asked, noticing that the tray brought earlier remained untouched.

"I managed to have lunch," Capitano replied, undoing the fastening at his wrist.

"It's almost midnight."

"In that case, I suppose dinner is indeed rather late."

You sighed and pushed a plate of leftover pastries toward him. Capitano looked at the food, then at you, and, yielding to your insistence, sat down beside you.

Your relationship had been going on for several months. Almost no one at court knew about it. You remained the daughter of the Tsaritsa, while he was the First Harbinger, whose name commanded respect even among the highest-ranking officials of Snezhnaya. During council meetings, you addressed one another with all the proper formalities, and only on those rare free evenings did Capitano allow himself to leave his official duties at the door.

He had never been particularly talkative when it came to expressing his feelings. Instead, he remembered your requests, found time to listen to even the most insignificant complaints, and invariably noticed when you were tired. In the presence of others, Capitano behaved toward you with respect and restraint, but in private, he could gently draw you closer, place his palm against your cheek, or linger outside your door for a few extra minutes after saying goodbye.

That evening, you were sitting beside him, asking about the situation on the northern border.

"So it's really that serious?" you asked after he told you about the missing patrols.

"We do not yet have precise information. However, the number of Abyssal creatures in the border regions has increased. I have ordered additional fortifications to be prepared."

"Should I return to the capital?"

Capitano remained silent for a moment, considering his answer.

"I would prefer you to be at the Zapolyarny Palace. But at present, the roads may prove more dangerous than the fortress itself."

"Mother is hardly going to be pleased."

"I have already sent her a detailed report. Her Majesty is aware of the situation."

You looked at the gloves lying nearby. One of them bore an old scratch left from his last battle.

"And what if the Abyss reaches this place?"

Capitano turned toward you.

"The fortress is well defended. Several Fatui divisions are stationed here, and I am personally overseeing the preparations for its defense."

"But what if something happens to me?"

He reached out and gently touched your fingers.

"Your safety is among my responsibilities. I will see to it that you have a reliable escort."

You intertwined your fingers with his.

"I'm not asking you only as the First Harbinger, you know."

Capitano looked at your joined hands for a while. Then he moved closer and gently embraced you.

"I know," he answered quietly.

Later, when he was preparing to leave, he lingered by the door. You straightened the collar of his cloak, and Capitano leaned down to make it easier for you before tenderly pressing his lips to your forehead.

"Try to get some sleep," he asked. "You have meetings with representatives of the administration again tomorrow."

"You try to get some sleep, too."

"I promise."

He gave your hand one last squeeze before leaving.

You trusted him. Throughout the time you had known each other, Capitano had never once given you reason to doubt his honesty or devotion. Even when circumstances worked against him, he always tried to keep his promises.

That was why, when the alarm signals sounded over the fortress three days later, he was the first person you thought of.

---

The attack began shortly before noon.

Abyssal creatures appeared from several directions at once. The northern watchtowers were the first to notice movement near the frozen river, but by the time the commanders received the reports, the enemy had already approached the outer fortifications. New rifts were opening above the forest, and monsters continued emerging from them.

Capitano immediately assumed command of the defense. He was on the northern wall when a report came in about a breach in the eastern courtyard.

At that time, you were in the administrative wing of the fortress with several officials. Six guards accompanied you on the commandant's orders. When the bombardment began, they led you into the nearest fortified room and attempted to contact the command post.

Several minutes later, an explosion destroyed part of the eastern passage. One corridor collapsed, while another was blocked by rubble. The administrative wing was cut off from the main citadel.

Capitano received news of this almost simultaneously with a report on the situation at the northern crossing.

Two messengers arrived at the command post less than a minute apart.

"Lord Capitano, the eastern wing has been cut off! Her Highness is inside. She has six guards with her, but the enemy has already broken into the courtyard!" the first officer reported, handing his commander a sheet marked with the positions of the divisions.

"Is there a way to evacuate her through the lower passage?" Capitano asked, bending over the map.

"We don't know yet. The supports are damaged, and communication with her escort is unstable. They're requesting reinforcements."

The First Harbinger was already about to order a reserve detachment to be dispatched when the second messenger, breathing heavily after running, stopped at the entrance.

"The northern crossing is in danger of being overrun! Refugees from three settlements are trapped near the bridge. More than eighty people. There are children, elderly people, and the wounded among them. Our detachment is holding the road, but they won't last much longer."

Capitano quickly studied the map. Saving the people at the crossing required the immediate redeployment of the available divisions. The bridge stood in an exposed area, and several large Abyssal creatures were already approaching the refugees. If the enemy broke through to the road, evacuation would become impossible.

The situation in the eastern wing was different. Six armed guards remained there, along with sturdy interior doors and several rooms suitable for defense. But Capitano understood that, in the event of a serious assault, these advantages would only delay the enemy for a short time.

He looked at the marking indicating the administrative building.

You were there.

Only a few seconds earlier, he had intended to send reinforcements to you. Now he had to decide where to deploy the last available reserves.

"How many men are required to hold the crossing?" he asked.

"No fewer than three mobile detachments, Lord Capitano. Otherwise, we won't have time to evacuate everyone."

Capitano straightened.

"Order all available divisions to proceed immediately to the northern bridge. Redeploy the reserve cavalry there as well. I will lead the operation."

The first officer looked at him in confusion.

"And the reinforcements for Her Highness?"

"The eastern garrison must hold its positions. Order the six guards to occupy the interior rooms and barricade the passages."

"But, Lord Capitano, they've already requested help."

"I am aware."

The officer fell silent, clearly expecting further instructions.

"Perhaps we could spare at least a few men from the reserves?" he suggested cautiously.

Capitano looked at the map again. The crossing was too far away, and the refugees had too little time left. He had ninety-six reserve soldiers at his disposal, who could be deployed to either of the two locations. He believed that the presence of all these men would allow the road to be cleared more quickly and ensure that the bridge remained secure until the evacuation was complete.

"No. All available soldiers are to proceed to the bridge."

The officer lowered his gaze.

"Yes, Lord Capitano."

"Inform the princess's escort that they are not to leave the fortified rooms. As soon as the crossing is secured, I will return to the question of evacuating the eastern wing."

Capitano took his sword and headed toward the exit.

He understood perfectly well what the order he had just given meant.

The eastern wing would receive no reinforcements until the operation at the bridge was complete. If the six guards failed to hold their defenses, no one would arrive in time to help you.

The First Harbinger did not doubt the courage of his soldiers, but he knew that the enemy's numerical superiority could prove decisive. He allowed himself to linger at the doors of the command post for a moment before heading toward the detachment waiting for him.

He wanted to see you, if only for a few moments. To make sure you were unharmed and tell you what was happening.

But he had already given the order.

---

The situation in the eastern wing was growing worse with every passing minute.

You were in a small meeting room. The windows were covered with heavy shutters, and the guards had reinforced the entrance door with furniture. Blows and scraping noises came from the neighboring corridor. From time to time, plaster fell from the ceiling.

One of the soldiers was trying to contact the command post through a portable communication device. The others checked their weapons and distributed the remaining ammunition.

"What did they say?" you asked when the communications soldier finally removed his headset.

The young guardsman hesitated.

"We've been ordered to hold this room, Your Highness."

"When will the reinforcements arrive?"

The soldier lowered his eyes.

"No reinforcements have been dispatched yet."

You stared at him for several seconds, trying to comprehend what you had heard.

"What do you mean, they haven't been dispatched?"

"All available divisions have been redeployed to the northern crossing. They're evacuating civilians there."

"But there are people here, too!" you said, pointing toward the officials sheltering in the far corner of the room. "There are six soldiers here, and there are monsters from the Abyss right outside the door!"

"I understand, Your Highness."

"Does Capitano know I'm here?"

The communications soldier looked toward the commander of your escort. The man slowly nodded.

"Yes. The First Harbinger received our report."

You fell silent.

At first, you thought there must have been some mistake. Perhaps the messages had been mixed up. Perhaps the command post had not yet managed to assess the situation. Capitano would surely send someone as soon as he learned how serious the threat was.

You asked the communications soldier to repeat the request.

He obeyed, called the command post's call signs several times, and transmitted information about the collapsed passage. Then he waited for a reply.

Several minutes later, the device crackled.

"The eastern wing is to remain in position. No additional divisions are available. Priority is the evacuation of the civilian population at the northern crossing."

The communications soldier slowly removed his headset.

The commander of the guards stepped closer.

"Your Highness, we'll have to remain here. We'll reinforce the door and hold this room for as long as necessary."

"Are they really not sending anyone?" you asked.

The officer could find no answer.

Soon, a heavy blow sounded. One of the door hinges tore free from the wall, and two guards rushed to brace the heavy wardrobe blocking the entrance.

"Everyone away from the windows!" the commander shouted. "Move to the far wall!"

You helped an elderly official get up from the floor and move behind a long table. You had barely managed to take cover when another blow split the doorframe.

The first Abyssal creature broke inside several minutes later.

The guards met it at the doorway. Fighting in the cramped room was difficult: broken furniture obstructed movement, and behind the first monster, others were already trying to force their way through the destroyed door.

You could hear the commander giving orders, the soldiers calling out to one another, and the clash of weapons. One of the guards fell beside the overturned wardrobe. Another tried to drag him away, but suffered a heavy blow and collapsed beside him.

Blood quickly spread across the stone tiles.

You began trembling. You retreated with the remaining officials while the commander tried to block the passage with a heavy bench.

"Back, Your Highness! To the far door!" he shouted.

You grabbed the first-aid kit lying near the table and tried to help the wounded soldier. He was struggling to breathe, and his uniform was soaked with blood. You pressed a folded cloth against the wound, trying to follow another guard's instructions, but your hands were shaking so badly that the bandage kept slipping.

"Your Highness, please, go!" the commander demanded, rushing toward you.

"He's dying!"

"If you stay, you'll die with him!"

He helped you to your feet and practically pushed you into the neighboring corridor. Several officials hurried after you. Two guards remained behind to cover the retreat.

One of them never returned.

You took shelter in a small food storage room. There were no windows, but there was an old service hatch leading into a network of underground utility corridors. The remaining soldiers tried to open it while the monsters continued breaking down the doors above.

It felt as though several hours had passed, although in reality less than forty minutes had gone by since the beginning of the attack.

You sat on the cold floor beside the wall, holding your injured arm against yourself. A deep cut from a stone fragment was visible on your forearm. The bleeding had already stopped, but the fabric of your sleeve had stuck to your skin.

Another crash sounded outside.

"Please, hurry," you begged, watching the soldiers struggle to move the heavy hatch cover.

"Almost there, Your Highness," one of them replied.

You nodded, although tears were already making it difficult to see properly.

All this time, you had been waiting for the familiar sound of heavy footsteps in the corridor. Waiting for an order spoken in that deep, calm voice you would have recognized among hundreds of others. You wanted to hear that Capitano had arrived, that you could finally stop being afraid and leave this room.

But he never came.

When the hatch was finally opened, the guards began leading people down the narrow staircase. You descended among the last, looking back toward the corridor you were leaving behind.

Of the six soldiers who had accompanied you, four remained alive. One was seriously wounded.

The other had died covering your retreat.

---

Capitano returned to the fortress almost two hours later.

By then, the refugees had already been evacuated beyond the dangerous territory. Eighty-seven people had been saved, including several seriously wounded children. The northern crossing had been destroyed, but the main enemy forces had retreated after the rift was eliminated.

The First Harbinger immediately headed to the command post.

"Report," he demanded as he entered the room.

The officer on duty rose from behind his desk.

"The northern wall held. The eastern courtyard has been cleared. We have significant damage to the internal passages and casualties among the garrison."

"Her Highness?"

The officer fell silent for a moment.

"The princess is alive, Lord Capitano."

Capitano stopped.

"Where is she?"

"In the medical wing. The guards led her out through the old utility corridors."

"Her injuries?"

"Cuts and bruises. The healer reported that her life is not in danger."

The First Harbinger slowly exhaled.

"Casualties among her escort?"

"Two dead. One seriously wounded."

Capitano lowered his head. He knew the names of all six soldiers assigned to protect you. That very morning, he had personally reviewed their service records.

"Prepare a detailed report. Arrange the appropriate compensation for the families of the fallen. All expenses for treating the wounded are to be covered in full."

"It will be done."

Capitano headed toward the exit.

"Lord Capitano," the officer unexpectedly called after him.

The First Harbinger turned around.

"Her Highness asked several times why no reinforcements had been sent to them."

Capitano remained silent for a while.

"What did you tell her?"

"The truth, Lord Capitano."

He nodded and left the command post.

The medical wing was crowded. Healers moved from one bed to another, orderlies brought clean bandages, and relatives of wounded soldiers waited near the doors. Capitano passed through the room, trying not to get in anyone's way.

He found you in a separate room.

You were sitting on the bed, wrapped in a woolen blanket. There was a fresh bandage on your arm, and near your feet stood a basin of water in which a healer had been washing bloodstained cloths. Your clothes, covered in dust, lay on a neighboring chair.

When Capitano appeared in the doorway, you raised your head.

For several seconds, you looked at each other.

He stopped at the threshold.

"I was told you were injured," he said.

You looked at him, then at his armor. His cloak bore traces of battle, and one of the metal plates was damaged.

"You came back."

"Yes."

"Were the refugees saved?"

"All eighty-seven of them. Some will require prolonged treatment, but their lives are out of danger."

You slowly nodded.

"I'm glad."

Capitano took a step forward.

"Let me see your arm."

"Don't," you replied, holding your injured forearm close to yourself.

He stopped.

Throughout your relationship, you had never before refused his touch in such a tone. Usually, after a difficult day, you were the one who reached for him, and he would embrace you, allowing you to rest beside him for a while.

Now you sat before him without even trying to hide your tears.

"Why?" you asked.

Capitano did not answer immediately.

"There were dozens of people at the crossing. Our divisions were not managing to organize the evacuation in time."

"I know. They told me."

You struggled to keep your voice steady.

"I'm asking why you left me there."

The First Harbinger slowly lowered the hand he had been about to extend toward you.

"There were six guards remaining in the eastern wing. I expected them to hold their defenses until the main forces returned."

"Six," you repeated. "We were surrounded by monsters, the doors were breaking, and you decided six men would be enough?"

"I understood that their situation would be difficult."

"One of them died right in front of me!"

Capitano fell silent.

You ran your uninjured hand over your face, trying to wipe away your tears.

"His name was Mikhail. He helped me carry documents yesterday. Today he died because he was trying to hold the door while we escaped."

"I was informed of his death," Capitano answered quietly.

"Then you know what happened!"

He did not argue.

"I know that two members of your escort were killed. And I know that you were forced to find a way out on your own."

You looked at him with such an expression that, for the first time during the conversation, Capitano averted his gaze.

"Can you even imagine how frightened I was?"

He raised his head.

"I can."

"No," you objected, shaking your head. "You weren't there. You didn't hear them breaking down the doors. You didn't see people dying. You didn't sit in the darkness waiting for them to reach you."

Capitano remained silent.

"I kept thinking you would come," you continued more quietly. "Even when they told us there would be no reinforcements, I still waited for you. Because you knew where I was. Because you knew I was afraid."

You covered your face with your hand for several seconds.

"And only afterward did I realize that you yourself had ordered them not to send anyone."

Capitano cautiously moved a step closer but stopped when he noticed you pulling away.

"I intended to return to you as soon as the evacuation was complete," he said.

"But you didn't come back in time."

He lowered his head.

"No."

"If we hadn't found that underground passage, I wouldn't be sitting here now."

"I understand."

You looked at him.

"And you still believe you did the right thing?"

Capitano paused for a long moment.

"I believe it was my duty to save those people."

You slowly turned away toward the window.

He made no attempt to add anything to his answer. At that moment, any explanations about military necessity would have sounded equally powerless against what you had been forced to endure.

Several minutes later, Capitano left the room. You never allowed him to touch you.

---

The following day, a detailed report on the attack was sent to the Zapolyarny Palace. It listed the garrison's casualties, damage to the fortifications, the number of evacuated civilians, and the circumstances under which the eastern wing had been left without reinforcements.

However, even before the investigation was complete, Pierro discovered serious discrepancies between the initial estimate of the number of soldiers required and their actual deployment at the crossing.

The Director of the Fatui ordered the course of the battle to be reconstructed minute by minute, using order logs, commanders' testimonies, maps of troop movements, and communications records. Throughout the following day, the staff officers compared the arrival times of each detachment, the number of enemies, and the actual participation of reserve soldiers in the evacuation.

The results were unpleasant.

Of the ninety-six soldiers Capitano had redeployed to the northern crossing, sixty-four had directly participated in combat and the organization of the civilian evacuation. Another thirty-two soldiers had remained in reserve, guarding already cleared sections of the road or awaiting orders at positions where the enemy had never appeared.

After studying the situation, the staff concluded that approximately sixty-five to seventy soldiers, with Capitano retaining personal command, would have been sufficient for the successful evacuation of all eighty-seven civilians. Sending twenty-four soldiers to the eastern wing would not have compromised the defense of the crossing and would have barely increased the duration of the operation.

Furthermore, a detachment arriving in time could have used the lower service passage, which had remained accessible for approximately twenty minutes after the first request was received. According to the staff's calculations, the reinforcements would have reached the six guards before the monsters broke into the meeting room.

Under those circumstances, the evacuation of the administrative wing would most likely have been completed without the deaths of the escorts. The princess and the officials would have left the room before the interior doors were destroyed.

Capitano personally studied the findings.

He spent several hours reviewing the documents and comparing them with his own memories. The officer who had suggested dividing the reserves had acted reasonably. The information concerning the condition of the northern bridge had made it possible to leave part of the divisions for the defense of the eastern wing. Moreover, the commander at the crossing already had enough soldiers for the initial defense of the road.

Capitano had sent all available forces there, intending to minimize the risk of casualties among the refugees as much as possible. He had feared that even a small delay would lead to the deaths of dozens of people and had therefore preferred to concentrate the divisions in one location.

Now the documents showed that such a concentration of forces had not been necessary.

He returned several times to the line indicating the estimated arrival time of twenty-four soldiers at the eastern wing.

The reinforcements would have arrived in time.

The two guards who had died could have remained alive.

You would not have had to spend almost an hour surrounded by monsters, waiting for help that he himself had forbidden them to send.

The First Harbinger closed the folder and sat motionless for a while.

Over five centuries, he had made mistakes whose consequences had cost people their lives. He had never treated such matters lightly. Every such incident demanded an investigation, a revision of tactics, and an acknowledgment of responsibility.

But now, among those who had suffered was the woman he loved.

And he could no longer explain what had happened solely as a necessity to choose between two groups of people. As it turned out, no such necessity had existed.

---

The Tsaritsa demanded an explanation immediately.

After the evacuation of the wounded had been completed and he had returned to the capital, Capitano appeared before her for a private audience. Only Pierro, who had been assigned to investigate the circumstances of what had happened, was present in the office.

The Tsaritsa stood beside her desk, holding a copy of the report in her hands.

"Eighty-seven people," she said, lowering the document. "You saved eighty-seven of my subjects. For that, I am grateful to you, Captain."

Capitano respectfully bowed his head.

"I fulfilled my duty, Your Majesty."

"Then explain to me why that same report states that my daughter was left in a surrounded wing with six guards, while you forbade them from sending her reinforcements."

The First Harbinger straightened.

"The available divisions were necessary for the evacuation of the civilian population. I ordered them redeployed to the northern crossing."

"I have read your order," the Tsaritsa replied. "And I want to hear whether you understood that, in the event of a breach in the defenses, my daughter would be left practically defenseless."

"I understood, Your Majesty."

Her fingers tightened around the edge of the document.

"You knew that her life was in danger?"

"Yes."

"And you still did not send a single additional soldier to her?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Pierro, who had been standing silently nearby until then, shifted his gaze from Capitano to the Tsaritsa.

She slowly placed the report on the desk.

"Tell me, Captain. If my daughter had died, would you have come here and explained to me that her death had been necessary to save others?"

Capitano did not answer immediately.

"I would have taken full responsibility for her death."

"Responsibility?" the Tsaritsa repeated.

She walked around the desk and stopped before him.

"What would I have done with your responsibility? Buried it alongside my daughter?"

The First Harbinger lowered his head.

"Your Majesty..."

"I entrusted you with command of the fortress because you know how to make decisions in the most difficult circumstances. I have never demanded that you sacrifice innocent people for the sake of my family. But I expected that you would at least try to find a way to protect my daughter."

Capitano remained motionless.

"And the most terrible part is that such a way existed," the Tsaritsa continued, taking another folder from the desk.

She opened the staff's findings and placed a page containing the calculations before the First Harbinger.

"Ninety-six soldiers. Thirty-two of them never even entered the battle. Twenty-four men would have been enough to hold the eastern passage until my daughter could be evacuated."

Capitano lowered his gaze to the documents.

"I have reviewed the findings, Your Majesty."

"Then you know that you could have saved both the refugees and those two soldiers who died protecting her."

"Yes."

The Tsaritsa looked at him for a while, as though expecting objections. But Capitano remained silent.

"I could have understood your decision if the circumstances had truly demanded such a terrible choice," she said. "If saving dozens of people had required you to leave my daughter in danger, it would have been difficult for me to accept, but as a ruler, I would have understood you."

She closed the folder.

"However, you had sufficient forces. Your officer suggested dividing the reserves. You refused him."

"That is correct."

"Why?"

Capitano slowly raised his head.

"I incorrectly assessed the number of reinforcements required at the crossing. I believed that concentrating all the reserves there would guarantee a successful evacuation and reduce the risk of a breach. I underestimated the possibility of holding both positions simultaneously."

"And as a result, two of your soldiers died, my daughter nearly lost her life, and you returned with a report of a successful operation."

The First Harbinger did not avert his gaze.

"It was my mistake, Your Majesty. I accept full responsibility for it."

Pierro, who stood near the window, finally spoke.

"The preliminary investigation also confirmed that an officer at the command post suggested sending part of the reserves to the princess. His suggestion was rejected by you personally, Captain."

"I remember," Capitano replied.

The Director paused briefly before continuing.

"No one is questioning the necessity of saving the civilian population. However, the further investigation must establish why the available resources were not distributed between the two locations."

Capitano bowed his head.

"I will provide all the necessary explanations."

The Tsaritsa placed her palm against the edge of the desk.

"She sent me a letter," she said more quietly. "The day after the attack. She wrote that she had been frightened, that two soldiers escorting her had died, and that she had spent the entire time waiting for help."

The First Harbinger raised his head.

"She did not accuse you. She even wrote that she understood why you had saved the civilians. But I know my daughter, Captain. And I can clearly see how much she has been through."

The Tsaritsa fell silent for a moment.

"You are one of the most honorable men in my service. That is precisely why I find it so difficult to understand how you could have allowed such a thing to happen."

Capitano looked at the document lying on the desk.

"I regret what Her Highness was forced to endure, Your Majesty. I should have anticipated the possibility of evacuating the eastern wing even before the attack began. And when both reports arrived, I should have divided the reserves."

"Yes," she replied. "You should have."

The Tsaritsa returned to her desk.

"Until the investigation is complete, I am assigning Pierro to review your orders and the actions of the fortress command. You will cooperate with him fully."

"Of course, Your Majesty."

"And one more thing."

Capitano stopped.

"My daughter needs peace and quiet at the moment. I ask that you do not disturb her unless necessary."

The First Harbinger bowed his head.

"As you command."

He left the office without another word.

The Tsaritsa did not know that the man she had just reprimanded was her daughter's lover. She did not know that several months earlier, he had confessed his feelings to you for the first time, or that the two of you had already begun making cautious plans for the future.

To her, Capitano remained a loyal subordinate who had made a grave mistake while protecting a member of the ruling family.

For him, what had happened was considerably more complicated.

---

That evening, Capitano received permission to send you a personal letter. He sat at his desk for a long time, trying to find words that would not sound like yet another explanation of his decision.

A blank sheet of paper lay on the desk. Beside it stood a small case containing a piece of jewelry he had purchased for you before the journey north. Back then, he had intended to give you the gift after returning to the capital.

Now the case remained closed.

Capitano began writing in his usual neat handwriting, but stopped several times to reread what he had written. He was accustomed to preparing military reports, issuing orders, and explaining his decisions to officers. Now, however, he needed to address someone before whom neither his rank nor his duty could serve as an excuse.

At last, he finished the letter, carefully folded the sheet, and sealed the envelope. Only your name was written on the front.

Inside were the following lines:

My dearest,

I hope your health is gradually improving and that the wound on your arm is no longer causing you severe pain.

Today, I received the findings concerning the events at the fortress. The investigation showed that I could have sent reinforcements to you without endangering the people at the northern crossing. I distributed the available forces incorrectly, and you and the soldiers who protected you were the ones who had to suffer the consequences of that decision.

It is difficult for me to accept the knowledge that you were waiting for my help while it was still possible for me to provide it. Especially now that I know I could have prevented what happened.

The families of the fallen guards will receive the necessary assistance. I have already ordered that their loved ones be provided with everything they are entitled to, and I will make sure the wounded soldiers do not go without treatment. I understand that these orders will not bring back those who died.

You have always known how seriously I take my duty. But now I must acknowledge that even centuries of experience did not protect me from making a mistake for which others paid far too high a price.

I am sincerely sorry for causing you such pain.

If you do not wish to see me, I will accept your decision and will not disturb you. But if, one day, you allow me to come to you, I would be grateful for the opportunity to speak with you in person.

I love you. And even now, when I understand how terribly I have let you down, I cannot bring myself to give up the hope that one day I might earn your trust again.

Take care of yourself, my dearest.

Yours, Thrain.

---

Later, when the secretary informed him that you had agreed to receive him, Capitano felt a certain relief for the first time in several days.

He came to your chambers after the evening council meeting had ended.

A palace maid was on duty by the door. Having received permission to enter, the First Harbinger left his sword at the entrance and stopped beside the armchair in which you were sitting.

You looked tired. There was still a bandage on your arm, and beside you lay a book that, apparently, you had not even begun to read.

"Good evening," Capitano said.

"Good evening," you replied.

He remained silent for several seconds, then asked cautiously:

"How is your arm?"

"Better. The healer said there will be a scar."

Capitano looked at the bandage.

"I'm sorry."

You closed the book and placed it on the small table.

"Did Mother speak to you?"

"Yes."

"Was she very angry?"

"Her Majesty had every reason to be."

You lowered your gaze.

"She doesn't know about us."

"I didn't tell her."

For a while, the only sound in the room was the crackling of firewood in the fireplace.

Capitano remained standing beside the armchair. Previously, he would have sat down beside you without hesitation, taken your hand, or asked whether you wanted to rest against his shoulder for a while. Now he was not sure whether you would even allow him to come closer.

"I wanted to see you," he finally said. "And ask whether there is anything I can do to help."

You looked at him.

"Do you know what I dreamed about last night?"

Capitano shook his head.

"I was in that room again. The door was breaking, Mikhail was shouting for us to leave, and I kept trying to contact the command post."

He listened without interrupting.

"In the dream, they finally answered me. I asked when help would arrive, and they told me that you had forbidden them from sending soldiers."

You swallowed.

"I woke up and, for a while, I couldn't even understand that I was already home."

Capitano slowly lowered himself onto one knee beside your armchair. He did so carefully, leaving enough space for you to move away if you wished.

"I am deeply sorry that you had to go through such a thing."

You looked at his dark visor.

"You do love me, don't you?"

Capitano raised his head.

"Yes. With all my heart."

"Then why didn't you come?"

He could not answer immediately.

Over the past several days, that question had returned to him again and again. He remembered the faces of the people he had saved, among them children, elderly people, and wounded residents of the border settlements. He knew that they had needed help, and he did not regret for a single moment that their lives had been saved.

But now he also knew that saving them had not required leaving you without reinforcements at all.

He had assessed the situation incorrectly. He had not listened to his subordinate's suggestion. He had ordered every available soldier to one location, even though some of those men could have reached you before the defenses were breached.

And now, sitting before him was the woman who had endured almost an hour of terror, lost two of her protectors, and no longer felt safe beside the man she had once trusted unconditionally.

"I chose those who, as it seemed to me at the time, could not be saved without all the available forces," he finally said. "I entrusted your life to six soldiers and hoped they would hold out until my return."

"They didn't hold out," you replied quietly.

"I know."

"Two of them died."

"I know."

You turned away.

"I don't want them to have died for nothing. And I'm glad you saved those people. I really am."

Capitano remained silent.

"But I wanted to live, too," you said, your voice trembling. "I was so afraid of dying there. I called for you when the doors started breaking. I thought you would hear me. That someone would come and tell me you were already close."

Tears began running down your cheeks again.

"I know you can't save only me. But I loved you, and I thought that at least you wouldn't leave me alone."

Capitano slowly lowered his head.

He reached out, but stopped before his fingers could touch yours.

"I understand why you feel betrayed," he said. "And I will not ask you to give up those feelings."

For several seconds, he remained silent, looking at his own open palm.

"Today, I received the final calculations concerning the distribution of the reserves," Capitano continued. "Pierro instructed the staff to reconstruct the entire course of the battle. It turned out that we could have sent twenty-four soldiers to you without putting the civilian evacuation at risk."

He looked at you.

"Those men would have reached the eastern wing before the defenses were breached. Most likely, all of you would have been able to leave without any casualties."

Capitano paused briefly.

"I did not know that at the time. But I had information that would have allowed me to make that decision. One of the officers even suggested dividing the reserves, and I refused him."

He lowered his gaze.

"That is why I will no longer tell you that I was forced to choose between you and those people. I made a mistake. And it was my mistake that left you without help."

You stared at him, trying to comprehend what you had heard.

"So you could have sent soldiers?" you asked.

"Yes."

"And those two could have remained alive?"

"With a high degree of probability."

You closed your eyes, and Capitano continued:

"If I had assessed the situation correctly, you would not have had to endure any of this. I cannot change what happened, but I want you to know the truth."

He raised his head.

"I understand that, after hearing this, it may be even harder for you to forgive me."

You wiped away your tears.

"And what if it happens again?"

Capitano looked at you for a long time.

He could have said that from now on, he would always choose you. He could have promised that he would never again allow you to find yourself in danger. Perhaps those were exactly the words you had been waiting to hear.

But throughout your entire relationship, he had never once made a promise he did not intend to keep.

"I will do everything in my power to ensure that nothing like this happens again," he answered. "It was my duty to protect both you and those people. Now I know where I made my mistake, and I will not allow myself to forget it."

Capitano carefully lowered his hand.

"But if one day circumstances truly force me to choose between your life and the lives of dozens of innocent people, I cannot promise that I will choose you."

He remained before you on one knee.

"And it frightens me to think that because of this, I may lose you."

The First Harbinger said nothing more. He did not try to make you look at him or accept his explanations. He simply waited, understanding that after everything that had happened, you had every right not to want to continue this conversation at all.

"Please, tell me," he asked softly. "Do you still want me to remain by your side?"

The Face Untouched by Light

---

Capitano returned to the Zapolyarny Palace on the third day after the battle at the northern pass.

His division had encountered numerous Abyssal creatures that had appeared near the abandoned fortifications of Khaenri'ah. The battle had lasted almost twelve hours. The soldiers managed to destroy the rift and regain control of the road, but several officers suffered serious injuries, and part of the detachment had to be sent back to the capital ahead of schedule.

The First Harbinger personally accompanied the wounded. He checked that the soldiers had been properly accommodated in the hospital, ordered the necessary information to be delivered to the families of the fallen, and only afterward went to present his report to the Tsaritsa.

None of the officers accompanying him noticed anything unusual.

Capitano held himself upright, issued orders in his usual steady voice, and did not allow himself to interrupt conversations because of fatigue. Even when one of the healers offered to examine an injury on his right arm, he merely replied that he would attend to it later.

In reality, the first signs of deterioration had appeared during the battle itself.

The curse he had carried since the fall of Khaenri'ah had never left his body in peace. Over five centuries, Capitano had learned to endure constant pain, cope with the limitations caused by the deterioration of his tissues, and maintain his physical strength despite a condition that most people would have considered incompatible with continued military service.

However, after his latest encounter with the Abyss, the familiar symptoms had worsened. The affected parts of his body began deteriorating more rapidly, while the pain, previously predictable enough, now appeared without warning and could last for hours. Sometimes the fingers of his right hand stopped obeying him, and new injuries appeared beneath his armor, requiring fresh bandages.

Capitano preferred not to tell anyone about the deterioration.

He did not consider his own condition a reason to distract his subordinates from restoring the garrison. Especially since similar episodes had occurred before, although the current one had proved considerably more severe.

The only person who managed to notice what was happening was Dottore.

---

On the evening of the fourth day, the Second Harbinger appeared in Capitano's office without a prior invitation.

Military reports, several maps of the northern fortifications, and orders awaiting signatures lay across the desk. Capitano was working when the door opened and Dottore entered the room, accompanied by one of his assistants.

"Remarkable. I expected to find you in the medical wing, but apparently, you still prefer occupying yourself with paperwork," the scholar remarked, stopping beside the desk.

"Do you have business with me, Doctor?" Capitano asked without looking up from the document.

"Strictly professional. Your latest medical examination raises certain questions," Dottore replied, gesturing for his assistant to come closer.

"I have not undergone an examination," Capitano reminded him, setting aside the written sheet.

"That is precisely what concerns me," Dottore replied, accepting a folder from his assistant. "More specifically, I am concerned by your persistence in avoiding an entirely necessary procedure."

Capitano signed the document and set it aside.

"You are already sufficiently familiar with my condition."

"I am familiar with the results of your previous examinations. But those are already outdated. Judging by the information obtained from your healers, the latest expedition has had a rather unfavorable effect on you," Dottore explained, opening the folder to a page containing the observation results.

"I am capable of performing my duties," Capitano replied, turning his head toward him.

"I have no doubt of that. However, being capable of continuing your work and having no serious injuries are two entirely different things," the scholar objected, turning several pages.

Dottore placed several sheets containing medical records before him.

"I have received the results of research I have been conducting over the past several months. I believe you may find them interesting."

The First Harbinger examined the documents. The pages contained diagrams of affected tissues, comparative tables, and several notes concerning the curse's reaction to experimental medications.

"Have you found a way to slow the deterioration?" Capitano asked, pausing over one of the diagrams.

"Under certain conditions – yes. Preliminary trials have shown that the affected tissues temporarily cease deteriorating. Some specimens even demonstrated partial regeneration," Dottore reported, clearly pleased to have an opportunity to discuss his findings.

Capitano turned the page.

"How long did the effect last?"

"The longest recorded period was thirty-eight hours. After that, the effect gradually weakened. However, the duration can be extended," Dottore explained, pointing to the relevant line.

"How?" Capitano asked, lifting his gaze from the table.

Dottore's gaze lingered on the document for a moment.

"To achieve a stable result, an additional source of life energy will be required. Ordinary medications and artificially created carriers have proved insufficiently effective."

Capitano carefully examined the next page.

"Living donors are listed here."

"Quite correct," the scholar confirmed, adjusting the edge of the folder.

"Six people?" Capitano raised his head.

"According to preliminary calculations. It may be possible to reduce the number to four, but I do not yet have sufficient data," Dottore replied, consulting his notes.

The First Harbinger placed the documents on the desk.

"What will happen to them after the procedure?"

"In all likelihood, they will not survive it. Even if they do, the consequences will be irreversible," Dottore replied, turning through his notes. "Naturally, I have made provisions for using prisoners who can no longer be returned to ordinary life. From the standpoint of available resources, it is a perfectly acceptable option."

Capitano slowly closed the folder.

"No."

Dottore raised his head.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I will not participate in the procedure," Capitano stated, pushing the folder back toward the scholar.

"You have not even examined the complete results," Dottore remarked, glancing at the closed documents.

"I have examined the information I need," the First Harbinger replied.

The scholar studied him for a while, then gave a quiet chuckle.

"Captain, you are refusing an opportunity to significantly improve your condition because of a few prisoners you have never even met?"

"Their circumstances do not give us the right to dispose of their lives," Capitano replied, resting his palm on the edge of the desk.

"I'm afraid our views on acceptable research methods differ somewhat," Dottore said, straightening.

"I am familiar with your views," Capitano remarked.

Dottore adjusted his glove.

"In that case, allow me to remind you that we are discussing your own body. The curse continues to destroy it, and judging by the latest observations, the process is accelerating. At a certain point, you may lose the ability to move independently. Certain organs may be affected even sooner."

"I understand," Capitano replied, glancing once more at the records lying before him.

"I am not convinced. Otherwise, you would at least consider the proposed option," Dottore countered, returning one of the pages to the folder.

Capitano rose from behind his desk.

"I am grateful for the work you have done, Doctor. But if the treatment requires the deaths of innocent people, I refuse it."

"I hardly expected a different answer," Dottore remarked, retrieving the folder. "Nevertheless, I had hoped that several centuries of existing in such a condition would have made you a little more practical."

The First Harbinger said nothing.

Already near the door, the scholar stopped.

"Incidentally, you really should visit the medical wing. I will leave instructions to prepare the necessary medications. At the very least, I hope you do not intend to refuse conventional treatment as well."

"I will come when I have finished my work," Capitano replied, returning to his desk.

"Excellent. Do try to do so before your assistant has to search for you unconscious beneath this desk," Dottore advised, casting one last glance at the paperwork.

Dottore left the office without waiting for a response.

---

Over the next two days, Capitano continued working almost as usual.

He attended a meeting of the military council, personally inspected the preparations of a new garrison, and met several times with representatives from the northern territories. No one noticed that fastening the straps of his armor with his right hand was becoming increasingly difficult, or that after standing for long periods, he sometimes had to pause briefly before continuing on his way.

You saw him several times as well.

First, during a council meeting, when he reported to the Tsaritsa on the consequences of the Abyssal attack. Later, near the palace library, where he had stopped to help a young officer understand several orders concerning the transfer of military divisions. On both occasions, the First Harbinger maintained his usual restraint and spoke to you with unwavering respect.

Nevertheless, something struck you as strange.

During your last encounter, Capitano did not extend his hand in response to your greeting, although previously he had willingly allowed you such small liberties when no one else was nearby. He merely inclined his head and apologized, explaining that he urgently needed to return to headquarters.

You noticed that the glove on his right hand was damaged near the wrist.

At the time, you did not attach much importance to it.

The following evening, you had to remain in the palace's medical wing longer than expected. Following the northern garrison's return, the hospital had become overcrowded, and you were personally dealing with the supply of medicine and additional materials. Several healers had requested your assistance in obtaining authorizations that ordinarily had to pass through several administrative departments.

By the time the last invoice had been signed, darkness had already fallen outside the windows.

"Your Highness, you really needn't stay," the senior healer remarked, gathering the documents from the desk. "We can finish the rest in the morning."

"I'm almost finished already," you replied, handing her the final folder. "Please make sure these medications are delivered before noon."

"Of course. Thank you," the healer replied, accepting the documents with both hands.

You said goodbye to her and headed toward the exit.

Most of the hospital was already preparing for the night. The healers on duty spoke quietly near their offices, and the lights in the wards were gradually being extinguished. The scent of medicinal herbs and clean bandaging materials lingered in the corridors.

You had almost reached the main staircase when you noticed that several lamps were still burning in the distant corridor on the second floor.

This part of the medical wing was usually reserved for specialized research and complicated procedures. Outsiders were rarely admitted, and the rooms used by Dottore were most often guarded by his staff.

However, there was no one near the entrance now.

The sound of a metal object falling came from behind a half-open door.

Then you heard heavy breathing.

You stopped.

"Is anyone here?" you called, moving closer.

There was no answer.

You carefully pushed the door open.

---

Inside was a small treatment room. Instruments, clean bandages, and several vials of medicinal solutions were arranged on the tables. A medical couch stood against the far wall, with a folding screen beside it that someone had pushed aside.

Capitano was sitting on the edge of the couch.

He had already removed most of his armor. The heavy breastplate lay on a separate table, with the shoulder guards and metal fastenings beside it. He still wore his dark underclothes, partially unfastened at the collar, while his right arm had been freed from most of its protective plates.

You had never seen him in such a condition before.

Even without his armor, Capitano retained his imposing figure and his habitually upright posture, but now he sat leaning slightly forward. His left palm was braced against the edge of the couch, while his right hand rested on his knee. The damaged glove still covered his fingers, although the fastening at the wrist had been undone.

A metal clamp lay on the floor near his feet.

Capitano raised his head when he heard the door open.

"Your Highness?"

Genuine surprise could be heard in his voice.

"Capitano?" You stopped at the threshold, examining the removed armor and the medical supplies laid out nearby. "What happened? Are you injured?"

"Nothing that requires your presence," he replied, attempting to straighten.

The movement proved unfortunate. His right arm suddenly tensed, and his fingers curled inward. Capitano stopped and remained motionless for several seconds, waiting for the wave of pain to pass.

You took a step forward.

"You're unwell," you said, noticing how he was supporting himself with his left arm.

"It is a temporary complication," Capitano replied, slowly straightening his shoulders.

"You can barely move your hand," you observed, approaching the couch.

"I can manage," he said, reaching for the bandaging materials again.

He reached for a bandage lying nearby, but his fingers failed to hold the fabric. The bandage fell onto the couch. Capitano looked at it, then slowly lowered his hand.

You moved closer.

"Why isn't there a healer here?" you asked, looking around the empty room.

"I asked the staff to leave me," Capitano replied.

"Why?" You stopped beside the table of instruments.

"Certain procedures are more convenient to perform independently," he explained, carefully turning his injured wrist.

You looked at the damaged glove, then at the open bottle of medicine.

"You can't even take it off."

Capitano said nothing.

Your words had come out more sharply than you intended, and you softened your voice a little.

"Let me help."

"Thank you for the offer, Your Highness, but that will not be necessary," he replied, drawing his hand back slightly.

"Capitano," you called, waiting until he looked at you again.

He raised his head.

"Can you at least tell me what's happening?"

For several seconds, the First Harbinger remained silent. Then he carefully moved his right hand onto the edge of the couch.

"The latest encounter with the Abyss caused an exacerbation of the curse. The affected tissues are recovering more slowly than usual. Dottore has prepared medications capable of relieving the symptoms."

"And how long has this been going on?" you asked, carefully examining the damaged fastening.

"Several days," Capitano replied.

"Several days?" you repeated, looking at him. "And you've been attending meetings and dealing with work all this time?"

"My duties could not wait," he explained, lowering his gaze to the unfinished bandages.

You looked at the traces of medicine near his hand.

"And the treatment?"

"I am attending to it now," Capitano replied, indicating the supplies laid out nearby.

You slowly exhaled.

"And how successfully?"

Capitano turned his head toward the fallen bandage for a moment.

"There have been certain difficulties."

You could not hold back a short, entirely humorless laugh.

"I noticed."

He did not argue.

You carefully picked up the bandage from the couch and placed it beside the other supplies.

"What needs to be done?"

"Your Highness..." Capitano began, but fell silent when you addressed him again.

"I'm not going to perform surgery. Just tell me how I can help."

Capitano looked at your hand resting beside his damaged glove.

"First, it needs to be removed. Then the affected area must be treated and the bandage replaced."

"All right," you replied, pulling an empty chair closer.

You reached toward the fastening but stopped.

"May I?"

The First Harbinger looked at you for several seconds. Then he slowly nodded.

"Yes. Just be careful around the wrist."

You sat down on the empty chair opposite him and began undoing the remaining fastenings.

The task proved more difficult than you had expected. The glove was made of thick material reinforced with several metal plates. Some of the fastenings had to be released individually, taking care not to touch the damaged tissue beneath them.

Capitano patiently explained which fastening should be opened next. Several times, he asked you to stop when a movement caused him pain.

"Here?" you asked, carefully touching the final strap.

"A little higher. Yes, exactly there," Capitano instructed, turning his hand slightly.

You released the fastening and began slowly removing the glove.

Beneath it, you discovered a hand that looked considerably worse than you had expected.

The skin on his wrist and fingers had been damaged by the curse. Certain areas had darkened, and in places the tissue appeared thin and uneven. Near the base of his thumb was an old wound whose edges had never fully healed. Several fingers were bandaged, and the fabric of the dressing had adhered to the damaged skin in places.

You stopped.

Capitano noticed immediately.

"If you find it unpleasant to look at, I can continue on my own," he said calmly.

You raised your eyes to him.

"I don't find it unpleasant," you replied, carefully supporting his palm.

He remained silent for a moment.

"Most people prefer not to see the effects of the curse," Capitano remarked, glancing at his damaged wrist.

"I'm not most people," you countered.

Capitano turned his head slightly.

"You are the Tsaritsa's daughter. And I doubt you expected to spend your evening occupied with such things."

"Did you?" you asked, setting the loosened fastening aside.

The question left him silent for a moment.

"No," he admitted.

You carefully placed the removed glove on the table and picked up a clean bandage.

"Then it seems we've both changed our plans a little."

Capitano did not reply, but he no longer suggested that you leave.

---

Treating the wound took considerably longer than expected.

You had to work carefully, constantly asking whether you were hurting him. Capitano answered calmly, although his fingers sometimes tensed involuntarily and his breathing grew deeper. At such moments, you set the bandage aside and waited until he was able to continue.

He explained in detail which solution should be used to treat the affected areas and how the dressing should be secured so that it would not rub against his skin beneath the armor.

You tried to remember every instruction.

"Too tight?" you asked, securing one of the turns of the bandage.

"A little. Loosen it near the joint," Capitano requested, carefully bending his fingers.

You gently adjusted the fabric.

"Is that better?"

"Yes. Thank you," he replied, relaxing his hand again.

For a while, you worked in silence.

Outside the windows, darkness had completely fallen. The lamp above the treatment table illuminated the bandages and metal instruments, while the far end of the room remained softly lit by a second lamp. Occasionally, someone from the medical staff passed by the door, but no one looked inside.

Then you noticed an open medical folder on a neighboring table. Among Dottore's notes were diagrams of damaged tissues and several pages containing the results of an experimental treatment.

One line caught your attention.

"The procedure requires the use of living donors," you read aloud, frowning.

You slowly raised your head.

"What is this?"

Capitano followed your gaze.

"Dottore's research," he replied.

"Is it connected to your curse?" you asked, turning the folder toward yourself.

"Yes," Capitano confirmed.

You picked up the folder and examined the nearest pages. Some of the medical terms were unfamiliar to you, but the general meaning gradually became clear.

"Has he found a treatment?"

"An experimental method of temporarily slowing the deterioration of the tissues," the First Harbinger explained.

"And you refused it?" You raised your gaze to him.

"Yes."

You looked at him.

"Why?"

Capitano did not answer immediately.

"Completing the procedure would require human lives. Dottore intends to use prisoners as a source of energy."

You looked at the document again.

"Will they die?"

"Most likely. Even if they survive, the consequences will be irreversible," Capitano replied, watching you examine the notes.

You slowly closed the folder.

"And this is the only way?"

"At present, it is the only method that has shown promising results," he explained.

"But you refused anyway," you said, carefully returning the folder to the table.

Capitano nodded slightly.

"I will not dispose of other people's lives merely to relieve my own condition."

You looked at his bandaged hand.

"Even if it means having to keep enduring this kind of pain?"

"Yes," he replied without averting his gaze.

You remained silent for a while, considering what you had heard.

"Is Dottore at least trying to find another option?"

"He is continuing his research. I have permitted him to study the results of previous examinations and use samples obtained with my consent. But my decision regarding this procedure will not change," Capitano explained.

Capitano carefully bent his bandaged fingers.

"I understand his scientific interest. However, there are boundaries I have no intention of crossing."

You set the folder aside.

"I wasn't going to try to change your mind," you said, returning to the unfinished dressing.

The First Harbinger looked at you.

"Then why do you ask?"

"Because I want to understand what you have to go through," you replied, carefully smoothing the bandage.

He remained silent for a while.

"It is not the most pleasant information," Capitano remarked.

"I've noticed."

You adjusted the edge of the dressing, taking care not to touch the damaged skin.

"But what bothers me much more is knowing that you endure all of this alone and won't allow anyone to help you."

Capitano lowered his head slightly.

"My condition should not become another person's responsibility."

"But I offered myself," you reminded him, raising your eyes to his.

"I know," he replied after a brief pause.

"Then why do you keep trying to send me away?"

He did not immediately find an answer.

You finished securing the dressing and set the remaining materials aside. Capitano's right hand was now neatly bandaged, while the damaged glove lay beside it on the table.

For several seconds, the First Harbinger examined the result of your work.

"You have done a very good job," he said.

"I had a patient teacher," you replied, removing the remaining scraps of bandage from your lap.

"I'm not certain that is the most accurate description," Capitano remarked, looking at you.

You smiled involuntarily.

Capitano carefully moved his fingers, checking that the fabric was not secured too tightly.

"Thank you, Your Highness. Now all that remains is to put my armor back on."

He attempted to rise from the couch.

The next attack of pain began entirely without warning.

Capitano stopped abruptly. His right hand clenched involuntarily, and he braced his left palm against the edge of the couch, trying to maintain his balance. The muscles of his shoulder tightened beneath the dark fabric of his clothing, and his breathing became uneven.

You immediately rose from your chair.

"Capitano?" you called, moving closer to him.

"Wait," he said, lowering himself back into his seat with difficulty.

You remained beside him, uncertain whether you should summon a healer.

The pain intensified. Capitano tried to reach for a small vial on the table, but his fingers failed to hold it. You managed to catch the bottle before it fell.

"This one?" you asked, showing him the vial.

He nodded.

"Three drops. In water," Capitano replied, trying to keep his breathing steady.

You quickly followed his instructions, then handed him the glass. Capitano took the medicine and placed the glass on the table, trying to avoid any sudden movements.

However, the attack continued.

You could see how tense his arms were, and for the first time, you realized how much effort it took for him to remain still. Even now, he did not cry out or complain, but several times he was forced to pause his breathing as he waited for another wave of pain to pass.

"Maybe I should call Dottore?" you suggested, glancing toward the door.

"No. The medication will begin working in a few minutes," Capitano replied, carefully supporting himself against the edge of the couch.

"Are you sure?" You moved the glass of water closer to him.

"Yes."

You looked at the closed door.

"Then I'll call an ordinary healer."

"Your Highness," Capitano slowly raised his head. "Please. There is no need."

You stopped.

"But you're in pain," you said, looking at him with concern.

"I know."

His answer sounded calm, although speaking was clearly difficult for him.

"I have experienced attacks like this before. The medicine will help. I simply need a little time."

You moved closer.

"Can I at least stay?"

Capitano did not answer immediately.

He was accustomed to enduring such episodes alone. When the pain became particularly severe, he preferred to close the doors, leave his weapon within reach, and wait until he could move freely enough again. The presence of others usually only made matters more difficult.

But now you were standing before him.

You had already seen his damaged hand, helped with the dressing, and made no attempt to hide your concern. Capitano understood that asking you to leave would probably hurt your feelings, but that was not the only reason for his hesitation. He himself wanted you to stay, although he was not accustomed to admitting such a desire even to himself.

"If you do not mind waiting," he finally replied.

"I don't mind," you said, returning to your chair.

You sat down beside him again.

Several minutes passed with almost no conversation. Capitano sat leaning slightly forward, while you made sure the glass of water remained nearby. Sometimes he gripped the edge of the couch with his left hand when the pain intensified, but gradually the tension began to ease.

You carefully extended your hand toward him.

"May I?"

He looked at your open palm.

"Why?" Capitano asked, turning his head toward you slightly.

"I just want to hold your hand," you replied, keeping your palm extended.

Capitano remained silent for a while.

Then he slowly placed his left hand over yours.

You gently wrapped your fingers around his. Even without the metal glove, his hand remained large, and you had to move your chair a little closer so that both of you would be comfortable.

The First Harbinger said nothing. However, when the pain made him tense again, he gently squeezed your hand.

You did not ask any questions.

---

By the time the attack had finally subsided, it was already late at night outside the medical wing's windows.

Most of the lamps in the corridor had been extinguished. Only the night lamp near the staircase remained lit, and the occasional footsteps of the night staff could be heard in the distance.

Capitano gradually straightened and carefully moved his fingers.

"I believe I can continue now," he said.

"Are you feeling better?" you asked, leaning forward slightly.

"Considerably," Capitano replied, carefully turning his wrist.

You looked at the glass standing beside the couch.

"Do these attacks happen often?"

"Usually less frequently. The last battle has worsened my condition somewhat," he explained.

"You speak about it so calmly," you remarked.

"I have lived with the consequences of the curse for a very long time," Capitano replied.

You lowered your gaze to his bandaged hand.

"But that doesn't make it any easier."

Capitano fell silent for a moment.

"No," he admitted.

You continued holding his hand, although he was now perfectly capable of withdrawing it.

"Why have you never told me about this?"

The First Harbinger looked at you.

"I saw no need."

"We've known each other for so many years, Capitano," you reminded him, gently squeezing his fingers.

"And throughout that time, you have treated me with great respect. I value that," he replied, turning toward you.

"Would anything change if I knew that you sometimes needed help?"

He did not answer immediately.

You moved a little closer.

"Do you think I'll start pitying you?"

Capitano lowered his head.

"Many people, upon learning of my condition, begin treating me differently. Some try to avoid such conversations. Others consider it necessary to constantly remind me that I should take care of myself."

"And does that irritate you?" you asked, listening attentively.

"Sometimes," he admitted. "Especially when the subject turns to my duties. I am capable of assessing my own abilities."

You looked at his discarded armor.

"I'm not going to forbid you from fighting."

"I know," Capitano replied.

"And I'm not going to pretend I haven't noticed anything," you added, turning toward him again.

Capitano turned his head slightly.

"That would be rather difficult."

You laughed softly.

He allowed you to finish laughing before speaking again.

"I do not want you to feel obliged to care for me out of a sense of duty, Your Highness. You have enough responsibilities of your own."

"And what if I want to?" you asked, without releasing his hand.

Capitano looked at you.

"What if I want to come here sometimes, help you change your bandages, or simply sit beside you when you're feeling unwell?" you continued. "Not because you're the First Harbinger, and not because I pity you."

He slowly lowered his gaze to your joined hands.

"I do not know what to say."

"You can simply allow me," you suggested with a faint smile.

Capitano remained silent for a while.

Then he gently squeezed your hand.

"Very well," he said.

You smiled.

"Then it's settled."

He inclined his head slightly.

"I'm afraid you cannot even imagine how stubborn a patient I can be."

"After this evening, I already have some suspicions," you replied, glancing at the glove left beside the couch.

Capitano exhaled quietly. When he spoke again, there was a barely noticeable hint of good humor in his voice.

"Then you should know that I have no intention of abandoning my duties in favor of remaining in the hospital permanently."

"I haven't demanded that yet," you remarked, adjusting the edge of your sleeve.

"I would prefer to clarify that in advance," Capitano replied.

You shook your head, still smiling.

For a while, you sat together discussing the medications needed for the next dressing change. Capitano explained where the spare bandages were usually kept and which areas of skin required particular care. You listened and occasionally asked questions, trying to remember his instructions.

Gradually, the conversation turned to your upcoming responsibilities. You told him about the problems with supplies at the hospital, and Capitano asked whether you had managed to arrange additional materials for the wounded soldiers.

For a while, the atmosphere became almost ordinary.

Snow continued falling outside the windows. A narrow strip of light from the wall lamp lay across the windowsill, while clean bandages and an empty glass remained on the table beside you. You had already stopped glancing toward the door, expecting one of the healers to return.

Then you noticed that he had touched the fastening on the lower part of his helmet several times.

"Is it bothering you?" you asked, following the movement of his hand.

Capitano stopped moving his hand.

"A little. After these attacks, the curse sometimes affects the area around my neck. I need to replace another dressing."

"Then let me help," you offered, reaching for the clean materials.

The First Harbinger looked at you.

You had already extended your hand toward the clean supplies lying on the table, but noticing his silence, you stopped.

"Is something wrong?"

Capitano slowly lowered his hand onto his knee.

"That would require removing my helmet."

You looked at the dark visor concealing his face.

Throughout the many years you had known him, you had never once seen Capitano without his helmet. You knew about the curse of Khaenri'ah, had heard stories about his past, and understood that he had his reasons for preferring to conceal his appearance. However, you had never tried to question him about what lay beneath his armor.

The First Harbinger had never raised the subject either.

"I can turn away if that would make you more comfortable," you offered, carefully setting the bandages aside.

Capitano looked at you for a while, then slowly shook his head.

"That is not the issue."

He carefully ran his hand along the edge of his visor.

"The curse has altered my face considerably more than the rest of my body. The damage cannot be completely concealed with an ordinary bandage."

You listened silently.

"I have long since grown accustomed to my own appearance. It does not prevent me from fulfilling my duties, and I see no need to change anything for the convenience of others."

Capitano paused briefly.

"However, I understand that seeing the effects of the curse for the first time may be unpleasant."

You carefully placed your palm on the edge of the couch beside his hand.

"Capitano, I've just helped you change your bandages."

"The face is somewhat different," he replied, without withdrawing his hand.

"Why?" you asked, raising your eyes to him.

He looked at you.

For the first time that evening, Capitano did not find an answer immediately. He could explain the condition of the damaged tissues, list the consequences of the curse, or describe which areas required constant treatment. But the question concerned something he almost never discussed aloud.

Over five centuries, he had seen many people avert their eyes when confronted with the effects of the Khaenri'ahn curse. He did not blame them. The appearance of a man whose body had continued deteriorating for centuries could indeed frighten an unprepared observer.

He simply did not want to see that reaction from you.

"I suppose I would like to preserve the way you have always regarded me," he finally said.

You looked at his hand resting beside yours.

"And you think that depends on how you look?"

Capitano lowered his head for a moment.

"I do not. But until now, I have had no reason to put that to the test."

You gently touched his fingers.

"I'm not going to force you to take off your helmet."

He looked at you.

"If you want, I'll help you with the bandage. If not, I can call a healer or simply wait until you finish on your own."

Capitano remained silent for a while.

Then he slowly turned his palm over and gently covered your hand with his.

"You have shown me more patience today than I had any right to expect," he said.

"You put up with my questions, too," you replied, smiling slightly.

"I suppose that was only fair," Capitano remarked.

You smiled faintly.

The First Harbinger looked at the medical supplies lying nearby. Then he carefully raised his hand to the fastening of his helmet.

You did not move, giving him the opportunity to decide for himself what he wanted to do next.

Capitano undid the first clasp, then the second. The metal fastenings clicked softly. He stopped when only the last clasp near his neck remained.

"Your Highness," he said, turning his head toward you.

His voice sounded calm, although his fingers still rested on the fastening.

"I would like to ask one thing of you."

You raised your eyes.

"What is it?" you asked, waiting for his answer.

Capitano remained silent for a moment.

"When I remove my helmet, please do not try to conceal your reaction for my sake. If you feel uncomfortable, tell me. I will not be offended."

He carefully released the final clasp but left the helmet in place for the moment.

"And if, after that, you still wish to remain by my side..." Capitano extended his free hand toward you. "I would be grateful."

One Night Without War

---

Capitano received orders to accompany you to Snezhnolesye a week before the beginning of the annual winter festival.

The small town was situated among coniferous forests in northern Snezhnaya. Several decades earlier, a prolonged military conflict had ended here, claiming the lives of hundreds of local residents and soldiers. In memory of that event, the townspeople held a festival every year, gathering in the main square, lighting lanterns, treating one another to homemade food, and remembering those who had helped restore peace to their lands.

This time, representatives of the Zapolyarny Palace were expected to attend the celebrations. The Tsaritsa had entrusted you with delivering funds for the restoration of the old fortifications and attending several charitable events. Capitano, meanwhile, had been appointed commander of the detachment accompanying you.

For the First Harbinger, an assignment of this kind presented no particular difficulty. He personally checked the route, studied the locations of the inns, ordered several officers to inspect the town in advance, and coordinated the delegation's arrival with the local administration.

Understanding his own feelings proved considerably more difficult.

For several months now, Capitano had noticed that his attitude toward you had gradually ceased to be limited to the respect he felt for his sovereign's daughter. He enjoyed listening to your remarks during council meetings, remembered incidental details from your conversations, and sometimes caught himself looking for an excuse to remain nearby after official gatherings had ended.

He liked that you addressed him without the excessive reverence usually displayed by young officers. You could ask him about his latest expedition, inquire after the health of wounded soldiers, or quite unexpectedly begin a conversation about some small detail you had noticed in the palace.

Capitano always answered you thoroughly. Admittedly, it was often only after the conversation had ended that he realized he could have said something more personal.

Once, he had even intended to invite you for a walk through the palace gardens. However, when the opportunity arose, he informed you instead that repairs to the northern fortifications had been completed.

You thanked him for the news, while he spent the remainder of the evening wondering why he had considered the condition of defensive structures a suitable topic for conversation.

That was why he received the news of the upcoming journey with a certain amount of nervousness, although he did his best not to show it.

---

You arrived in Snezhnolesye closer to noon.

Fresh snow had covered the town overnight. The roofs of small wooden houses were blanketed in white snowdrifts, smoke rose from chimneys, and strings of colorful lanterns stretched along the streets. In the main square, people were already setting up festive tables, decorating fir branches, and preparing a tall bonfire that would be lit after dark.

Capitano stepped out of the carriage first and carefully surveyed the square. Several of his soldiers had already taken their assigned positions, while the local elder awaited the delegation near the town hall.

"Welcome to Snezhnolesye, Your Highness!" the elderly man greeted you with a deep bow. "It is a great honor for us to receive Her Majesty's daughter."

"Thank you for inviting us," you replied, stepping down from the carriage. "It's very beautiful here. Did you decorate everything yourselves?"

"The whole town worked together," the elder reported with obvious pleasure, straightening up. "The young people hung the lanterns, the women prepared the food, and the children have been making festive masks for an entire week."

He pointed toward a wooden arch near the town hall, decorated with evergreen branches. Above the entrance hung a sign bearing the words: "For One Night, We Are All Equal."

"We have an old tradition," the elder explained. "During the festival, everyone wears a mask and leaves their titles outside the gates. Long ago, our ancestors wanted at least one evening each year when no one remembered who had been a commander, who had been an ordinary soldier, and who had been a merchant. Everyone defended the town together, and everyone celebrates together."

You approached the arch with interest, examining the patterns carved into its supports.

"So today there are no princesses or Harbingers here?" you asked, glancing back at Capitano.

"Precisely," the elder confirmed. "Of course, we understand that distinguished guests have their own responsibilities. But if you would like to join the festival, we would be delighted."

Capitano inclined his head slightly.

"I must ensure Her Highness's safety. However, my men will do their best not to interfere with local customs."

"Wonderful, wonderful," the elder nodded. "And we'll certainly find masks for you. Even for a guest as tall as this one!"

You turned toward the First Harbinger, already considering whether you would have time for a walk after the official engagements.

"Captain, will we be able to explore the town for a little while?"

"After the official portion is concluded, Your Highness," he replied, carefully examining the crowd gathering in the square. "I have already arranged for an escort."

"Then I'll try not to spend too long at the meetings," you replied with a small smile.

Capitano nodded politely, unaware of just how unusual the evening would turn out to be.

---

Several hours later, you appeared before him looking entirely different from usual.

Instead of court attire, you wore a simple woolen skirt, comfortable winter boots, and a warm jacket, over which you had wrapped a wide knitted scarf. You had arranged your hair so that it would not get in your way during the walk, and in your hands you held a small wooden fox mask purchased from a local craftsman.

Capitano, who had been waiting for you near the guesthouse, fell silent for several seconds. He was accustomed to seeing you in court dresses, and now he needed a little time to adjust to the change. The simple clothes suited you remarkably well, although he could not bring himself to say so aloud.

"Is something wrong?" you asked, noticing that he was examining your clothes.

"No, Your Highness," he replied, straightening a little. "I merely wanted to make sure you were dressed warmly enough."

"I don't think I'll have time to get cold," you replied, adjusting your scarf. "But you, on the other hand..."

You looked him over from head to toe.

The First Harbinger was still wearing his dark armor, with a long winter cloak draped over it. His face was concealed beneath his usual helmet, and a thin layer of fresh snow rested on his shoulders.

"Are you planning to walk around the festival dressed like that?"

"This is my usual equipment," Capitano replied, glancing at his armor.

"But everyone is supposed to wear masks today," you reminded him.

He turned his head slightly.

"My helmet already conceals my face."

"In that case, you have an advantage over everyone else. You wear your mask every day," you remarked with a faint smile.

Capitano considered the observation for a moment before acknowledging its fairness.

"I suppose you are right."

You took a second mask from your bag. It was wooden, painted black, with a long bird's beak and several silver feathers painted along its surface.

"I chose a raven for you," you explained, offering him your purchase.

Capitano accepted the mask and carefully examined its fastenings. Judging by its size, the craftsman had expected a customer of considerably shorter stature, wearing a more conventional form of headgear. The First Harbinger cautiously held it against his helmet, trying to determine whether the wooden construction could be secured without damaging the straps.

"Are you suggesting that I wear this over my helmet?"

"If it fits. Although I'm not sure the craftsman anticipated a situation like this," you replied, watching his attempts.

Capitano could have explained that the mask would obstruct his vision and that additional fastenings over his helmet served absolutely no practical purpose. However, you had clearly made an effort to choose something suitable for him, and he did not want to refuse your gift.

"In that case, I shall do my best to fasten it securely."

He made several more attempts. At first, the strap proved too short. Then the mask slipped sideways, and when Capitano finally found a suitable position, the long wooden beak made it difficult for him to look downward.

The First Harbinger adjusted the fastening, raised the mask slightly, and checked how freely he could turn his head. After some effort, he managed to secure it to the front of his helmet. The result looked rather unusual, but Capitano apparently considered the task accomplished.

Several minutes later, a young woman in simple winter clothing and a fox mask was walking through the streets of Snezhnolesye, accompanied by an enormous man in a black cloak, whose helmet was adorned with the wooden face of a raven.

Capitano decided not to think about what his officers would say if they saw him now.

---

The festival had already begun.

Music played in the main square. Garlands of paper lanterns stretched between the houses, hot pies were being sold beside the ovens, and clay mugs filled with a lingonberry drink stood on the long tables. Children ran between the adults, showing one another their handmade masks, occasionally stopping to admire the snow sculptures set up near the town hall.

You almost immediately headed toward a small wooden stall, behind which an elderly woman was struggling to manage several trays of baked goods.

"Oh, dear, be careful, it's hot here!" the woman warned when she noticed you approaching.

"Would you like some help?" you offered, looking behind the counter.

The woman raised her head in surprise.

"Help? Have you even had anything to eat yourself?"

"Not yet. But I can help you first," you replied, noticing how many trays remained on the worktable.

The woman examined you for several seconds before pointing toward a large tray.

"Well, if you've got your hands free, take these pies over to the next table. Just be careful, the filling is hot."

"All right," you agreed, accepting the tray.

Capitano stopped nearby.

He watched as you calmly picked up the tray, arranged the baked goods, and listened to the elderly woman's instructions. A little flour landed on the sleeve of your jacket, and your scarf kept slipping from your shoulder, but you did not seem particularly concerned.

When several children approached the stall, you offered to let them choose their treats and helped the woman pour the hot drinks. You spoke to them calmly, answered their questions, and showed no embarrassment at having to attend to the most ordinary tasks yourself.

Capitano found himself watching you for a little longer.

He was accustomed to seeing you at the Zapolyarny Palace, where every appearance you made was accompanied by bows and servants hurried to fulfill your slightest request. Now, the same young woman stood before him, wearing a simple woolen outfit, with flour on her sleeve and a gentle smile.

You seemed entirely at ease among the locals, and he found that he liked it considerably more than he had expected.

"Hey, tall one!" the woman suddenly called, addressing him. "Why are you just standing there? The girl's working, and all you do is watch!"

Capitano turned his head.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Come over here, I said. Help her with the crates."

The First Harbinger froze for a moment. People usually addressed him with considerably more respect. Even the boldest officers rarely permitted themselves such a tone.

However, the woman was already pointing toward several wooden crates near the wall.

"Move these over to the stove. And don't drop them, they're heavy."

"Of course," Capitano replied, obediently heading toward the crates.

You covered your smile with your hand as he bent down to pick up the first one.

He lifted two crates at once without difficulty. The woman watched him with satisfaction.

"That's more like it! You can tell you've got strong arms. And there you were, standing around looking all important."

Capitano placed the crates beside the stove and politely inclined his head.

"Is there anything else I can assist you with?"

"That's enough for now. What do you do for a living, dear? Chop down trees?"

You looked at him with curiosity, waiting for his answer.

Capitano paused briefly.

"In a certain sense, my work involves physical exertion."

"That's what I thought," the woman concluded. "But you're awfully serious for your age. I bet you've forgotten how to laugh."

The First Harbinger looked toward you. From your expression, he understood that the conversation was providing you with a certain amount of amusement, although you were trying not to interfere.

"I'm afraid you are somewhat overestimating my youth," he politely replied to the woman.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous! A man in the prime of his life, talking like an old grandfather."

You lowered your gaze toward the counter, hiding a smile. Noticing this, Capitano decided against explaining just how mistaken the woman was about his age.

"I suppose your observation is fair," he admitted.

The woman nodded in satisfaction and handed each of you a hot pie.

"Now off you go and enjoy yourselves. Otherwise, the girl will get tired of waiting for you."

Capitano accepted the treat and walked away with you.

You stopped near a small bench decorated with evergreen branches.

"You would be quite suited to working at a festival like this," you remarked, carefully tasting your pie. "The owner would quickly find something for you to do."

"I'm glad I could be of assistance," he replied.

"She seemed pleased with you."

"I suppose she had her reasons."

You smiled, remembering how confidently the elderly woman had been ordering the First Harbinger around.

Capitano watched you for a moment before lowering his gaze to the pie in his own hand. Eating it beneath his usual helmet was impossible.

He had only realized this after accepting the treat.

You followed his gaze.

"Captain, it'll be difficult for you to eat that, won't it?"

"That does present a certain difficulty," he agreed.

"You can save it for later," you suggested. "Or I can hold it until you decide what to do with it."

Capitano considered the matter for a moment. He had already been about to place the pie in his bag of travel necessities, but the prospect of getting filling on important documents seemed rather unwise.

"I would not wish to be discourteous toward the owner."

"I doubt she'll be offended. But if you'd like, I can take it," you replied, extending your free hand.

He handed you the pie.

You placed the second treat into a small paper bag the woman had provided and put it in your own bag.

"There, that's settled. You can eat it later, when it's more convenient."

Capitano thanked you, although he now had to consider how exactly he intended to eat the pie later if he had no plans to remove his helmet in public.

As you continued walking, he caught himself entertaining an unexpected thought: he wanted to give you something else. Perhaps buy a small trinket from a local craftsman or win a prize in one of the festive competitions.

He had absolutely no idea which of these options would be more appropriate.

---

The answer presented itself at the next stall.

In a small clearing, several young people were competing in a wooden ring-toss game. The objective was to land rings over narrow posts arranged at different distances. Winners received toys, knitted mittens, and animal figurines carved from wood.

You stopped beside the barrier, examining the prizes on display.

"What lovely little toys," you remarked, noticing the small wooden figurines.

Capitano followed your gaze.

Among the prizes stood a small wooden fox painted white. A tiny red scarf had been tied around its neck.

"Do you like that one?" the First Harbinger asked.

"Yes. Especially its little scarf," you replied, examining the figurine.

Capitano carefully assessed the distance to the targets.

Over his many years of service, he had been required to strike enemies from considerably greater distances. A small festive competition seemed an entirely manageable task.

"Allow me to try," he offered.

You were somewhat surprised, since Capitano had never shown any particular interest in such amusements before.

"You'd like to participate?"

"If you have no objections."

"Of course. I'd be interested to watch," you replied, making room for him beside the barrier.

The stall owner handed him five wooden rings.

"The rules are simple, friend. Three successful throws get you a small prize, and five let you choose anything you like."

"Understood," Capitano replied, accepting the rings.

He took his place behind the line and carefully judged the distance.

The first ring landed precisely over the intended post, the second followed, and the third proved equally successful. The stall owner gave an approving whistle, watching how confidently the tall stranger handled the challenge.

"You're doing well," you remarked with a smile.

Capitano turned his head toward you.

"Thank you."

It was at that precise moment that he made a small mistake.

Distracted by your smile, Capitano threw the fourth ring with somewhat more force than necessary. The wooden hoop struck the far target, bounced away, and clipped the neighboring post. It swayed, struck another post, and both fell with a clatter, dragging a third down with them.

Laughter rippled through the gathering.

Capitano looked at the overturned posts, then carefully placed the fifth ring back on the counter. Judging by how quickly he decided to stop participating, he considered continuing the competition unwise.

The stall owner scratched the back of his head.

"Well, that's a first."

You smiled, observing the consequences of the throw.

"It seems you overdid it a little. I hope they can be put back."

"My apologies. I miscalculated the force of the throw," the First Harbinger replied, examining the fallen targets.

"Oh, don't worry about it," the owner laughed. "The posts are fine. We'll put them back in a moment."

"Allow me to assist."

Capitano immediately approached the barrier and began returning the wooden posts to their original positions.

You watched as one of the most formidable warriors in Teyvat restored, with the utmost seriousness, a festive game he had accidentally knocked over. When the owner tried to explain that one of the posts needed to be positioned slightly farther to the left, Capitano listened carefully to his instructions and adjusted its placement with the air of someone whose success in an important military operation depended upon its accuracy.

Several minutes later, everything was ready.

"There, all fixed," the owner announced, checking the final post. "And you can still take a prize. You got three of them."

Capitano chose the small wooden fox.

He approached you and held out the figurine.

"For you."

You accepted the gift with both hands.

"Thank you, Captain. You remembered which one I liked," you said, examining the figurine.

"Of course. You took an interest in it."

You turned the little fox around in your hands for a while longer before carefully putting it into your bag.

Capitano politely inclined his head.

He wanted to say that the figurine reminded him of you in your fox mask. Then he considered that such a comparison might sound strange, particularly after the incident with the targets.

In the end, he limited himself to saying:

"I'm glad the gift pleases you."

The First Harbinger noticed how carefully you put the figurine away and felt a sense of satisfaction. Apparently, his attempt to please you had succeeded despite the minor mishap.

---

Soon afterward, a little girl wearing an oversized fur hat came running up to you.

She was about six years old. Short, fair strands of hair escaped from beneath her hat, and she carried several wreaths made of winter flowers and thin fir branches.

"Uncle Voron!" she called, stopping in front of Capitano.

The First Harbinger lowered his head.

"Are you addressing me?"

"Uh-huh," the girl replied, nodding enthusiastically.

She held out one of the wreaths.

"Here. This is for you."

Capitano carefully accepted the gift.

"Thank you, young lady."

"My name's Agata," the girl explained. "What's yours?"

Capitano fell silent for a moment.

Ordinarily, he gave his title or introduced himself as the First Harbinger of the Fatui. However, today's tradition prohibited the use of titles, and he had long since stopped giving his real name to strangers.

You came to his rescue.

"You can call him Voron," you suggested, pointing toward the wooden mask.

Agata nodded happily.

"All right! Uncle Voron, put the wreath on!"

Capitano carefully examined the small circle of flowers, comparing its size with his helmet. Even without the wooden mask, it would hardly have been possible to wear the wreath in the usual way.

"I'm afraid it is somewhat small."

"That's okay! You can hang it on your horn!" Agata suggested, pointing toward the protruding parts of his helmet.

You smiled, watching Capitano encounter yet another unfamiliar task.

The First Harbinger carefully examined the fastenings of his helmet. After a moment's consideration, he secured the wreath to a protruding section of his armor near his shoulder.

Several white flowers now hung over the black metal plate. Whenever Capitano moved his head, the long beak of his wooden mask brushed against one of them, so after several attempts to adjust the decoration, he decided to leave it alone.

Agata was satisfied.

"Pretty!" she announced, stepping back to admire the result.

"Thank you," Capitano replied with complete seriousness.

You bent down toward the girl.

"Do you have a wreath for me as well?" you asked.

"Of course," Agata held out a second one. "But you have to put it on yourself. He's so tall I can't reach his head."

You accepted the wreath and placed it over your warm hat.

Capitano looked at you.

The white flowers went well with your simple winter outfit. Several thin twigs had worked their way loose from the weave, and you tried to adjust them while continuing your conversation with the girl.

The First Harbinger allowed his gaze to linger on you longer than he had intended.

He had seen you in countless luxurious dresses. He had seen you at formal receptions, beside the Tsaritsa, surrounded by courtiers and ambassadors. Yet now, as you stood in the middle of a snow-covered square, speaking with a little girl and adjusting a wreath made of simple winter flowers, he found himself wanting to remember every detail.

You found it easy to connect with people, never questioned their social standing, and felt no embarrassment at the most ordinary activities. Capitano had noticed these qualities in your character long ago, but this evening allowed him to see you in circumstances that almost never arose at the palace.

Meanwhile, Agata carefully examined him.

"Uncle Voron, why are you so serious?"

"Force of habit," he replied.

"Do you know how to play?"

"Some games."

"Then come on. We've got snowballs over there," the girl suggested, pointing toward a nearby clearing.

Capitano turned toward you, apparently wishing to make sure that a short delay would not interfere with your plans.

"It seems you've been invited," you remarked with a faint smile. "If we have time, why don't we have a look?"

The First Harbinger paused briefly.

"I suppose I have no valid reason to refuse today."

---

Ten minutes later, Capitano found himself participating in a festive snowball-throwing competition.

The rules were exceedingly simple: the participants had to knock small wooden figurines off a wall of snow. Agata ceremoniously appointed you as the judge, while the First Harbinger received five prepared snowballs.

Several children gathered to watch the tall stranger wearing the raven mask.

"Come on, mister!" one boy shouted. "Show us how it's done!"

Capitano picked up the first snowball and carefully assessed the distance.

After the incident with the wooden rings, he decided to proceed more cautiously. As it turned out, competitions of this kind required far more precise control of force than he had anticipated.

His first throw was too weak. The snowball fell short of the target, crumbling at the base of the wall.

The children burst into laughter.

Capitano looked at where it had landed, then at his own hand.

"I suppose I was somewhat excessively cautious."

"That's all right, Voron!" Agata encouraged him. "You've still got four left!"

You smiled and handed him the next snowball.

"Try a little harder," you suggested. "I think you'll get it this time."

The second snowball struck the first figurine squarely, and the third knocked down another. One of the boys nodded approvingly, as though Capitano had finally managed to meet his expectations.

The fourth throw was so successful that a small section of the snow wall collapsed along with the target.

The First Harbinger looked at the scattered snow. This time, he was no longer surprised by the result, and before the children had a chance to say anything, he headed toward the barrier to repair the damaged section.

Agata clapped enthusiastically.

"Wow!"

You moved a little closer, examining the collapsed part of the wall.

"It seems you haven't had much luck with targets today," you remarked with a good-natured smile.

"I suppose I still require some practice," he replied, bending down to gather the loose snow.

The children insisted that he help them restore the targets. Capitano agreed without objection.

Over the next several minutes, he gathered snow with them, positioned the wooden figurines, and listened to numerous suggestions concerning the proper strength of a throw.

You stood nearby, watching what was happening.

One of the boys, deciding that Capitano was taking too long to shape a snowball, attempted to demonstrate the correct method. The First Harbinger patiently listened to his instructions before making a snowball exactly as directed.

"Now that's good!" the boy announced.

"Thank you for your assistance," Capitano replied seriously.

When the boy asked him to make another snowball, the First Harbinger obediently repeated the movements, paying particular attention to its size this time. The resulting ball was packed so firmly that the child could barely leave a fingerprint in it.

"You squeezed it too hard," the boy informed him with the air of an experienced instructor.

"I shall keep that in mind," Capitano replied, carefully breaking the snowball apart and beginning another.

The children were satisfied.

And you had probably never seen him quite like this before.

---

As evening approached, the first lanterns were lit in the main square.

The townspeople gradually gathered around the tall festive bonfire. Musicians took their places on a small wooden platform, while large samovars filled with hot drinks appeared beside the tables. From the nearest tavern came the smell of stewed meat, fresh bread, and lingonberry pies.

You suggested going inside for a little while to warm up.

Capitano agreed.

The tavern was small and very lively. Families with children sat at the tables, several elderly men played cards, and near the stove, the owner was pouring hot drinks into clay mugs.

The same woman who had made Capitano carry crates earlier that day immediately recognized you.

"Oh! The young people are back!" she exclaimed happily, coming out from behind the counter. "Well, tall one, haven't frozen the girl yet, have you?"

"I believe not," Capitano replied, helping you remove your scarf.

The woman looked at his flower-decorated shoulder.

"Oh, look at you, handsome! Someone's even given you a little wreath."

Capitano carefully turned his head toward the flowers.

"Yes. A very thoughtful gift."

"At last you're starting to look like a proper person. You've been walking around looking gloomier than a winter night."

You smiled slightly, watching another exchange of pleasantries.

The owner pointed toward an empty table near the window.

"Sit over there. I'll bring you something warm."

Capitano waited until you had settled onto the bench before sitting opposite you.

The bench had been designed for people of considerably shorter stature, and the First Harbinger had to move it back a little to make room for his legs. In doing so, the wooden raven mask caught on a low-hanging evergreen garland above the table. Capitano carefully freed the beak from the branches and straightened the decoration, trying not to attract the attention of the neighboring guests.

For several minutes, you watched what was happening in the tavern. At the next table, children argued over who had won the snowball competition, while near the stove, an elderly musician attempted to tune an old violin.

You removed your mask and placed it beside the wooden fox Capitano had won for you.

"I like it here," you admitted, looking around the room. "No one bows, asks what dishes I want to be served, or watches how I hold my cup."

Capitano looked at you.

"Do you miss this kind of freedom at the palace?"

"Sometimes. Even an ordinary dinner can turn into a ceremony there. Here, you can simply sit, eat pies, and talk."

You paused briefly before adding:

"And no one is surprised if I want to help someone myself."

"You truly enjoy doing such things," he remarked.

"I like being useful when I can. Besides, the owner clearly needed another pair of hands," you replied, adjusting the gloves lying on the table.

"Of course," Capitano agreed. "It is pleasant to see how comfortable you feel among the local people."

You looked at him.

"And do you like it here?"

Capitano looked around the room.

Someone at the neighboring table laughed loudly. The owner was scolding a boy who had attempted to steal a pie from a baking tray. Near the door, two elderly men were discussing how much snow would fall by morning.

Once, scenes like these had been an ordinary part of his life. Before the fall of Khaenri'ah, before the endless wars and centuries of service. Capitano still remembered small settlements where people gathered after a difficult day's work, shared food, and talked about utterly insignificant things.

He had not allowed himself to spend an evening like this in a very long time.

"Yes," he finally replied. "I like it here."

You smiled and raised the mug of hot drink to your lips.

Capitano watched you for a while before cautiously speaking again.

"I must admit, you surprised me today."

"How so?" you asked, setting the mug on the table.

"With your attitude toward the local people. You speak with them so naturally."

You shrugged slightly.

"They're very hospitable. It's easy to talk to them."

"Of course," he replied, inclining his head a little.

You looked at the wooden mask he still had not removed.

"And you've been doing quite well yourself today."

Capitano turned his head slightly.

"At what, exactly?"

"At playing the part of an ordinary guest. Although I imagine you're not accustomed to being ordered around by a tavern owner."

He considered this.

"I suppose I still have much to learn."

"For example, how not to break the festival targets," you added with a faint smile.

"That particular skill does indeed require some improvement," the First Harbinger agreed.

You laughed quietly, and Capitano found himself beginning to look forward to moments like these. He liked it when you smiled at his remarks, especially when he managed to make you smile intentionally.

Admittedly, that still happened far less often than he would have liked.

---

When you returned to the square, the musicians had already begun playing a dancing tune.

An open space had formed in front of the main bonfire. Several couples were turning cheerfully to the music, while children tried to imitate the adults' movements. On the wooden platform, the violinists played faster and faster, accompanying the melody by stamping their boots.

You stopped beside the barrier, watching the dancers.

"It seems they've already started dancing," you remarked, listening to the music.

Capitano followed your gaze.

He was exceptionally skilled with weapons, could command thousands of soldiers, and remained calm before the most dangerous opponents. Yet at the sight of the local dance floor, he felt a certain uncertainty for the first time that day.

He knew several old-fashioned dances. But those were performed at official ceremonies and had little in common with the cheerful village dancing taking place before him.

You turned toward him.

"Captain, would you like to try?"

The First Harbinger straightened.

"If that is what you wish."

"I think it could be interesting," you replied, extending your hand toward him.

Capitano accepted the invitation and followed you toward the other dancers.

However, within a few seconds, it became clear that he was entirely unfamiliar with the local steps.

You demonstrated a simple sequence of movements. He watched your feet carefully, then repeated the steps with such concentration that he might have been studying a new combat technique. He performed each movement separately, first making sure that he had memorized the correct direction.

The result was rather amusing.

"You can move a little more freely," you suggested, noticing how focused he looked.

"I am trying."

"You don't have to pay quite so much attention to the order of the steps here."

Capitano looked at the surrounding couples.

"I suppose the formation is rather chaotic."

You smiled.

He paused before adding:

"However, judging by the circumstances, that appears to be part of the rules."

You demonstrated the movements again.

This time, Capitano did considerably better. He carefully supported you by the hand, watched to make sure he did not collide with neighboring couples, and gradually began to follow the rhythm.

Several minutes later, you were both repeating the simple sequence of steps with reasonable confidence. Capitano tried to adjust to your movements and occasionally glanced at the neighboring couples to check whether he had remembered the next turn correctly.

But when the musicians unexpectedly increased the tempo, he attempted to change direction too late.

You nearly collided with him.

Capitano immediately caught you by the waist.

"My apologies," he said, making sure you had kept your balance.

"It's all right," you replied, carefully adjusting your footing.

Capitano withdrew his hand, but you extended yours toward him again.

"We can try again, if you'd like."

He looked at you.

You did not seem particularly concerned about how well he danced. You made no remarks about his small mistakes, calmly repeated the movements, and helped him understand the steps he had not yet memorized.

Capitano unexpectedly realized that he would gladly spend the entire remainder of the evening this way.

He enjoyed learning from you. He liked listening to your observations and noticing when he managed to perform another movement correctly. He even began deliberately asking questions about steps he had already memorized perfectly well, simply so that you would continue holding his hand.

At one point, becoming a little too absorbed in this, he asked for such a detailed explanation of the simplest turn that an elderly dancer standing nearby could no longer resist demonstrating it himself. Capitano thanked the man and repeated everything according to his instructions, only to discover that you were watching the exchange with a barely noticeable smile.

When the music ended, you stopped near the edge of the dance floor.

"See? You managed it," you said, adjusting your slightly crooked wreath.

"Thanks to your patience," Capitano replied, inclining his head slightly.

"You learn quickly."

The First Harbinger looked at you.

He wanted to tell you that the only reason he was trying so hard was his desire to please you. That seeing you smile made him happy, and that he would gladly learn another dozen dances like this if it meant spending a little more time beside you.

However, he could not find the appropriate words.

"Thank you," he said.

You carefully adjusted one of the white flowers that had caught on the fastening of his shoulder guard.

"And your wreath is still holding on."

Capitano lowered his gaze to your hand.

"In that case, I shall endeavor to preserve it."

---

Shortly before the lighting of the main bonfire, the townspeople gathered near the memorial to the defenders of Snezhnolesye.

The names of those who had died during the old war were engraved on a low stone pedestal. Evergreen branches and small wreaths lay beside the monument, while several elderly residents held lit candles in their hands.

The musicians gradually stopped playing.

The elder stepped forward and delivered a short speech. He thanked the residents for preserving the tradition, remembered the fallen, and reminded everyone that the festival was held in honor of the peace that had once been won at such a high price.

Capitano stood beside you, listening attentively.

When the elder invited anyone who wished to lay flowers, you removed your own wreath and carefully placed it at the foot of the memorial.

The First Harbinger looked at the white flowers for a while. Then he removed the wreath from his shoulder guard and placed it beside yours.

You turned toward him.

"Did you decide to leave your flowers, too?" you asked quietly.

"Yes," he replied.

For a while, you remained silent, watching the other residents approach the memorial.

Capitano remembered far too many names like these. Five centuries earlier, he had lost comrades with whom he had fought through countless battles. Some had never received graves, while the fates of others remained unknown.

He had never forgotten them.

And now, standing among the ordinary residents of a small, snow-covered town, he felt particularly keenly how much it could mean to people to gather peacefully, hold celebrations, and return home to their families.

You gently touched his hand.

"What are you thinking about?"

Capitano turned his head toward you.

"Those who are no longer with us."

You paused briefly.

"Your comrades?" you asked.

"Yes," he replied, looking toward the memorial again.

You gently squeezed his fingers.

"I'm sorry."

The First Harbinger looked at your joined hands.

"Thank you."

He did not go into detail. At that moment, he wanted to preserve the evening as it had unfolded thus far.

But when you did not withdraw your hand, he gently returned your touch.

---

Capitano noticed the first sign of trouble several minutes before the bonfire-lighting ceremony was due to begin.

Near the northern side of the square stood a tall wooden platform from which the festive lanterns were to be released. Several sturdy ropes stretched above the square, supporting structures decorated with evergreen branches. Capitano noticed damage to one of them.

At first, he assumed the rope had become frayed in the wind. However, on closer inspection, he saw a clean cut through several of its fibers.

The First Harbinger turned his head slightly.

An unfamiliar man in a gray mask stood near the platform. He quickly surveyed the square before heading toward a side street. A small metal object flashed briefly in his hand.

Capitano memorized his clothing and the direction in which he was moving.

He was about to discreetly approach one of the officers accompanying you when a sharp cracking sound came from the platform.

One of the supports tilted, the damaged rope snapped, and a heavy wooden structure adorned with burning lanterns began falling toward the children gathered near the barrier.

Capitano reacted immediately.

"Move away from the platform!" he ordered loudly, releasing your hand at the same time.

Several adults managed to turn around. You saw him quickly cross the open space between the square and the barrier.

The First Harbinger caught the nearest wooden beam before it could fall onto the people below. The heavy structure struck his shoulder, but he held it up, pushing it away from the crowd.

One of the lanterns broke free from its fastening and fell near several crates stacked beside the platform. The dry evergreen branches caught fire.

"Get the children away!" Capitano ordered the nearest adults. "Clear the path to the well!"

Several men immediately rushed to carry out his orders.

You helped Agata, who had stopped in fright near the barrier, move to a safer part of the square. The other children hurried after you, while one of the local residents brought a bucket of water.

Capitano lowered the damaged structure onto an empty stretch of ground, making sure it no longer threatened anyone.

Then he approached the fire.

Several quick orders, combined with help from the nearby residents, were enough to extinguish the flames before they could reach the neighboring buildings.

Everything happened so quickly that some of the people gathered there did not even have time to realize how serious the danger could have been.

Capitano carefully examined the damaged fastenings.

One end of the rope did indeed bear a clean mark left by a sharp blade.

He summoned one of the officers accompanying you, who had been mingling with the guests in ordinary clothing and a festive mask.

"Find the man in the gray mask. Dark jacket, brown gloves, approximately average height. He headed toward the northern street a minute before the incident," Capitano ordered quietly.

"At once, Lord..." The officer caught himself just in time, noticing the townspeople standing nearby. "Understood. I'll investigate."

Capitano nodded and returned to you.

You were standing near the wooden barrier, speaking with Agata. The girl had already calmed down and was now explaining how frightened she had been when the platform started to fall.

Noticing Capitano approaching, she immediately ran toward him.

"Uncle Voron!"

He stopped and lowered his head.

"Are you unharmed, young lady?"

"Yes! You're so strong! You lifted a whole tower!"

"It was considerably lighter than an actual tower," Capitano clarified calmly.

Agata nodded enthusiastically.

"Are you really a knight?"

The First Harbinger remained silent for a moment.

"I once held such a title."

"I knew it!" the girl announced, pleased with her own guess.

She ran off to her friends to share her discovery.

You looked at Capitano.

"Are you all right?" you asked, noticing the mark left by the impact on his shoulder guard.

"Yes. The structure did not cause me any injuries."

You carefully examined his armor.

"Are you sure?"

"Quite certain," he confirmed, carefully turning his shoulder.

He touched your shoulder, checking whether you had been hurt during the incident.

"And you? Were you struck by anything?"

"No. I helped the children move away," you replied.

"I saw. Thank you."

You examined him for a while.

Even now, after the sudden incident, Capitano maintained his customary composure. However, you noticed that he glanced toward the northern street several times.

"Did something happen?" you asked more quietly.

The First Harbinger leaned toward you slightly.

"I believe the rope was damaged deliberately. I have already instructed my men to investigate the circumstances."

You frowned.

"So someone might have done this on purpose?"

"Possibly. We do not yet have sufficient information to draw conclusions," Capitano replied, glancing toward the platform.

Capitano surveyed the square.

The residents had already begun clearing away the damaged structures. Several men carried away the scorched crates, while the elder spoke with the musicians, deciding whether the festivities could continue.

Most of the children, having satisfied themselves that the danger had passed, had once again become interested in the festive lights.

The First Harbinger watched them for a while before turning back toward you.

"I have ordered increased surveillance of the square. While my officers investigate, we should remain here, where we can keep the situation under observation."

You nodded, accepting his decision.

Capitano noticed that your scarf had slipped slightly while you were helping the children. He carefully adjusted the fabric, covering the exposed part of your collar.

"Are you cold?" he asked.

"A little. But I'm all right now," you replied, straightening the edge of your scarf.

"In that case, we should return closer to the bonfire once it has been lit."

He withdrew his hand, then unexpectedly lingered.

Throughout the evening, Capitano had tried several times to tell you something personal. Each time, more appropriate subjects presented themselves: security, the weather, local customs, or another festive competition.

But now, as you stood beside him in your simple winter clothes, with your slightly disheveled scarf and the wooden fox tucked into your bag, he particularly wanted to continue getting to know you beyond the limits of courtly duties.

He remembered how you had helped the tavern owner, smiled at his unsuccessful throws, and patiently demonstrated the dancing steps. He remembered little Agata and the wreath she had given him, completely unaware of who was hiding beneath the raven mask.

Capitano rarely felt any desire to impress someone. Yet today, he wanted you to remember more about him than the way he issued orders and fought.

He wanted you to enjoy spending time with him.

"Your Highness," he began, then paused briefly.

You raised your head.

"Yes, Captain?" you replied.

Capitano looked toward the musicians, who were taking their places near the square once more.

"I believe the dancing will continue after the ceremony."

"Most likely," you replied, glancing toward the wooden platform.

The First Harbinger carefully adjusted the wooden raven mask, which had slipped somewhat during the incident. While he attempted to return it to its proper position, the strap unexpectedly caught on one of the protrusions of his helmet, causing the long beak to turn slightly sideways.

Capitano stopped, felt for the troublesome fastening, and corrected its position. He carried out the entire operation with complete seriousness, although you could still notice that the mask sat a little crooked.

"In that case, I would like to ask you for something," he said, finally leaving the fastenings alone.

You looked at him with curiosity.

"What is it?" you asked.

Capitano paused briefly, choosing his words.

"You have shown me considerable patience today while teaching me the local dances. I understand that my abilities still leave much to be desired."

He inclined his head slightly.

"However, if you have no objections, I would like to try again."

You smiled.

Capitano extended his hand toward you, carefully opening his palm.

"And since we have left our titles outside the gates today..." He paused briefly, clearly unaccustomed to such freedom. "Would you allow me to invite you to the next dance?"

The Man Who Wears His Armor

---

There were rarely days at the Zapolyarny Palace when you did not have to attend official meetings, deal with correspondence, or carry out your mother's instructions. Even when the Tsaritsa did not require your participation in affairs of state, there were numerous smaller responsibilities associated with your position as her daughter. Fortunately, today's engagements had ended considerably earlier than usual, and after lunch, you finally had several free hours.

You decided to spend them in the palace library. Several days earlier, one of the archivists had promised to prepare a selection of old books for you, devoted to the history of Snezhnaya's northern settlements. All that remained was to collect them and perhaps take a short walk through the palace before returning to your chambers.

Snow continued falling outside the windows. Small snowdrifts rested on the wide windowsills, which the servants regularly cleared, while wall lamps burned along the corridors. From one of the neighboring rooms came the voices of officials discussing preparations for another diplomatic meeting. Occasionally, servants passed by carrying folders that smelled of fresh ink, and through the open doors of the administrative wing, one could hear the scratching of quills and the quiet conversations of secretaries.

At this hour, the palace usually followed a fairly peaceful rhythm. Morning meetings were drawing to a close, the first luncheon receptions had already ended, and the evening engagements had not yet begun. Most courtiers preferred to spend their few free hours in their own chambers, so some galleries were almost deserted. Occasionally, Fatui officers crossed them, their heavy boots leaving small traces of melted snow on the polished floors.

You knew the palace well enough to reach the library without an escort. Along the way, you encountered several servants, a young officer heading toward the council chambers, and two maids carrying baskets of clean linen. They all greeted you respectfully before returning to their duties. One of the maids even stopped to hold a heavy door open for you, but you thanked her and opened the next one yourself.

Your relationships with most of the Harbingers had developed in different ways. You spoke quite freely with some of them, others preferred to maintain a formal distance, and certain members of the Fatui rarely remained at the palace long enough for you to have an opportunity to talk.

Capitano was among those whose company you had known for many years. Even during your childhood, you had encountered him repeatedly near the council chambers, during ceremonial receptions, and at military ceremonies. Unlike certain courtiers, he had never attempted to entertain you with excessive pleasantries and did not change his manner of speaking depending on whether the Tsaritsa was present.

The First Harbinger had served the Tsaritsa long before your birth. His name was known far beyond Snezhnaya, and among Fatui officers, he enjoyed a respect that could hardly be explained by military rank alone. Capitano possessed extensive experience, was distinguished by his straightforwardness, and rarely allowed himself to participate in court disputes unless they concerned his responsibilities.

He had always treated you respectfully. Even during informal conversations, he continued using the appropriate forms of address, patiently answered questions, and never attempted to take advantage of your position for his own interests. His restraint sometimes made conversation difficult, but you could be certain that he listened attentively to others and would not make promises he had no intention of keeping.

Over the past several months, you had begun seeing each other somewhat more frequently. Sometimes Capitano accompanied you to official engagements, and sometimes you encountered each other near the library or in the palace gardens. He might linger to discuss a book you had read, tell you about a recently completed expedition, or simply escort you to the staircase if you were heading in the same direction.

Usually, your conversations ended sooner than you would have liked. The First Harbinger almost always had urgent matters to attend to, and his habit of observing court formalities often interfered with even the most ordinary conversations. He invariably asked permission before joining you and never assumed that you were obliged to give him your time merely because he held a high position at court.

You did not know that such encounters occupied considerably more of his thoughts than he was prepared to admit.

For some time now, Capitano had harbored feelings for you that he considered inappropriate to express without being certain they were reciprocated. He never allowed himself to draw conclusions from your politeness or kindness, and therefore limited himself to trying to find time for conversations with you. Sometimes, after returning from another expedition, he discovered that he remembered details of your conversations better than certain minor circumstances of past meetings.

Several times, he had intended to invite you for a walk, but on each occasion, he found a reason to postpone the invitation. From his perspective, such matters required delicacy, and approaching the daughter of his own sovereign with them demanded particular caution. Before allowing himself to take such a step, he wanted to be certain that the invitation would not seem like an obligation imposed by his position.

---

When you entered the library, an elderly archivist was sitting behind the main desk, occupied with copying a catalog.

The room was warm. Comfortable armchairs stood near the tall windows, stacks of books lay on the tables, and cabinets with glass doors stretched along the walls. Several lamps illuminated the reading area, while the distant passages between the shelves remained somewhat dim. Occasionally, the quiet knocking of a wooden ladder could be heard behind the tall cabinets as library attendants moved it from one shelf to another.

The library occupied several adjoining halls and was popular among palace officials. Historical chronicles, reports from research expeditions, old maps, and private collections of books entrusted to the Tsaritsa were kept here. In the far section of the room was a restricted archive, access to which was granted only by special permission.

From outside came the muffled sound of the wind, which occasionally made the windowpanes tremble slightly. Nevertheless, the reading hall was peaceful enough to hear the archivist turning the thick pages of his catalog. On his desk stood a cup of tea that had long since stopped steaming and a small inkwell with its lid open.

"Good afternoon, Your Highness," the archivist greeted you, rising from his desk. He set his quill aside and adjusted the spectacles that had slipped slightly down his nose. "Have you come for the books I promised?"

"Yes, if they're ready," you replied, stopping beside the catalog.

"Of course. I left them in the history section, on the second table near the window. You may examine them here or take them with you," the old man explained, pointing toward the passage between two cabinets.

You thanked him and headed toward the far end of the library. Along the way, you had to walk around several book carts that the library attendants were preparing to return to the shelves. On one of them lay recently restored volumes, carefully wrapped in protective cloth. The archivist's young assistant apologized for the disorder and hurried to clear the passage.

Someone was already standing beside the table you needed.

A tall figure in dark armor stood near one of the cabinets, examining a book with a darkened leather binding. Recognizing the familiar silhouette, you changed direction slightly and approached. There was barely enough space in the small history section for such a tall visitor: Capitano's heavy cloak almost touched the edge of the neighboring table, and he had to lower his head slightly to examine the titles of books on the upper shelves.

"Capitano? I wasn't expecting to find you here."

The First Harbinger turned and respectfully inclined his head. He carefully held the open book to prevent its pages from closing and turned his entire body toward you.

"Your Highness. I'm glad to see you," he replied, closing the book.

"Did you come to find something to read, too?" you asked, noticing several volumes on the neighboring table.

"I wanted to find information about one of the northern settlements. Recently, the remains of old defensive structures were discovered there, and I need to clarify a few details," Capitano explained, returning the book to its shelf.

He carefully returned the book to the shelf and noticed the selection prepared for you. Several of the volumes were rather heavy, and the spine of one old book was partially coming loose. Capitano moved it away from the edge of the table before continuing the conversation.

"I assume these books are intended for you?" he asked, indicating the neat stack.

"Yes. I've wanted to read about how the first fortresses in the north were built for a long time."

"Then you've been fortunate in your selection," Capitano remarked, picking up the top volume and examining its cover. "The author of this work described the organization of settlements in considerable detail. Although some of his claims about military fortifications require clarification."

"Have you read it before?" you asked, examining the book's title.

"I have. Though it was quite some time ago," he replied, carefully turning several pages.

Capitano pulled out the nearest armchair for you and placed the book on the table. You settled near the window, while he remained standing beside you, continuing to describe the contents of several chapters. Soon, the conversation turned to old trade routes and the reasons why certain northern settlements had gradually developed into military fortresses.

Capitano spoke calmly, occasionally referring to maps and illustrations. When he needed to recall the location of a road destroyed long ago, he found the relevant page and showed it to you. You could notice that he remembered not only the circumstances of battles but also the details of ordinary life among the people who had inhabited those territories.

The conversation gradually moved to the history of Snezhnaya, then to northern expeditions and ancient fortresses that were still being discovered beneath the snow. Capitano answered thoroughly, occasionally pausing to remember the exact name of a settlement or the date of a battle.

Outside the windows, the daylight continued to brighten as it reflected from the snow. Muffled voices of visitors came from the neighboring hall, but they hardly disturbed your conversation. When one of the library assistants brought several more books, Capitano thanked him and helped clear space on the table.

After a while, you noticed that he had not looked at a clock even once or mentioned needing to return to work.

"Do you have the day off?" you asked, closing one of the books.

"Not entirely. However, I have a little time at the moment," he replied, resting his palm on the back of the neighboring armchair.

"A rare stroke of luck," you remarked with a small smile.

"Indeed," Capitano agreed, resting his palm against the back of the neighboring armchair.

You returned to your reading, while he spent some time examining the books arranged on the table. Then the First Harbinger spoke again. He shifted his position slightly so that he would not block the light from the window, and before continuing, looked at one of the illustrations in the open book.

"By the way, Your Highness, have you visited the recently opened winter conservatory?"

"Not yet. I heard they brought some rare plants there," you replied, setting the book aside.

"Correct. As far as I know, some of them were brought from Fontaine. The gardeners hope they will take root despite the local climate."

Capitano fell silent for a moment, as though deciding whether to continue the conversation. His hand still rested on the back of the armchair, and for a while, he examined the spines of the books without returning to the previous subject.

"If you have nothing important scheduled for this evening, I could show you the conservatory."

You raised your eyes to him.

"Are you suggesting we go for a walk?"

"Yes," he replied, carefully adjusting the fastening on his glove. "After nine o'clock, there's usually almost no one there. I think we could examine the plants in peace."

The invitation was rather unexpected. Capitano did not usually suggest taking walks together without some official necessity, and even when he spent time beside you, he rarely discussed such meetings in advance. Now, however, he was clearly waiting for your answer and made no attempt to supplement the invitation with explanations about the benefits of studying botany or the arrangement of the palace rooms.

"I don't think I'll have anything to do this evening," you replied. "I'll try to come."

"In that case, I'll be glad to accompany you," he said.

After those words, Capitano lingered beside the table for a moment. There was still nothing unusual about his behavior: he maintained a respectful distance, spoke calmly, and allowed himself no excessive insistence. Only when you opened the book again did he move the lamp a little closer to you, making the pages easier to read.

For a while, you returned to discussing the books. Then Capitano helped you gather the selected volumes, carried several of the heaviest ones to the archivist's desk, and handed them to an attendant who was supposed to deliver the books to your chambers.

Before leaving, the First Harbinger stopped beside the library door. Beyond it, the footsteps of several visitors heading toward the main staircase could be heard, along with the quiet conversation of two archive attendants.

"Until this evening, Your Highness," he said, inclining his head slightly.

"Until this evening, Captain," you replied.

He lingered for another few seconds before heading toward the northern staircase. His heavy footsteps gradually faded beyond the door, and the archivist returned to copying his catalog, having first wished you a pleasant evening.

Remaining in the library, you decided to examine a few more books. The encounter had been pleasant, and the unexpected invitation promised to make the evening somewhat more interesting than usual.

---

Around five o'clock, you headed toward your chambers.

The corridors had become somewhat busier: meetings were ending, servants were carrying documents, and the palace guards were preparing for another change of shift. Several stewards discussed preparations for the evening reception, a secretary near one of the windows was trying to put scattered papers back in order, and the quiet argument of officers could be heard behind the doors of the council chamber.

The daylight was gradually fading. The wall lamps were already burning more brightly than they had several hours earlier, while outside the tall windows, the snow was beginning to take on a bluish shade. The western part of the palace was cooler because of doors that were frequently opened as servants carried crates of materials for an upcoming event.

Near the western staircase, you saw Capitano again.

This time, the First Harbinger was walking accompanied by two officers. One carried a folder containing military reports, while the other was explaining something, pointing at a small map. Capitano listened attentively and occasionally asked clarifying questions. Judging by certain phrases, the conversation concerned the distribution of troops along the northern border.

Noticing you, he stopped. The officers also ended their conversation and respectfully lowered their heads, allowing the First Harbinger to address you.

"Your Highness," he greeted you, respectfully inclining his head.

"Captain," you replied. "Have you finished with your work already?"

"The main matters for today have been settled. I only have a few orders left to prepare," he replied, holding the edge of his cloak aside so as not to obstruct a passing servant.

You remembered the invitation.

"Then I'll see you this evening?"

Capitano turned his head slightly. He stood close enough to hear you even through the voices of the officials passing by, but a slight hesitation appeared in his behavior, as though the meaning of your question was unclear to him.

"I beg your pardon?"

"At the conservatory. You suggested we go for a walk."

The First Harbinger looked at you for several seconds. The officers beside him fell silent, waiting for the conversation to continue. One of them even carefully closed his folder, since the discussion of military orders clearly had to be postponed.

"I'm afraid I don't quite understand what you're referring to," Capitano finally said.

You explained that you had met him in the library that afternoon and that you had agreed to visit the winter conservatory after nine. You recalled your conversation about northern fortresses and the books he had helped you gather. Capitano listened attentively, without interrupting or displaying irritation at the unexpected subject.

"You met me in the library today?" he clarified, lowering his head slightly.

"Yes. Around two o'clock."

One of the officers accompanying him raised his head in surprise. He exchanged a glance with his companion, then cautiously stepped forward, clearly uncertain whether it was appropriate to interrupt a conversation between the Tsaritsa's daughter and the First Harbinger.

"Forgive me, Your Highness," he cautiously interjected. "Lord Capitano was attending a military council meeting from noon until half past four."

You looked at the officer.

"Perhaps he stepped out for a little while?"

"No," the officer replied after a short pause. "I was present at the meeting the entire time. We even postponed the break because the discussion of the northern garrisons took longer than expected."

The officer spoke confidently, although the very necessity of contradicting the princess clearly made him uncomfortable. His companion silently confirmed the statement with a brief nod before lowering his gaze to the folder again.

Capitano turned toward his subordinate.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. You may continue without me. Deliver the documents to the secretary."

The officers bowed and continued down the corridor. The First Harbinger waited until they had moved far enough away that the conversation would not attract unnecessary attention.

Once they had moved sufficiently far away, the First Harbinger addressed you again.

"Your Highness, I truly have spent the last several hours at the council meeting. I haven't been to the library today."

For a while, you tried to reconcile what you had heard with your own memory. You could still picture the open books, the armchair beside the window, and the familiar figure in dark armor. The conversation had lasted long enough that it was difficult to confuse it with a brief encounter in a corridor.

"But I spoke with you. We discussed books, northern fortresses, and then you suggested we go for a walk."

"Are you certain it was me?" Capitano asked, now listening more attentively to your words.

"Of course. He looked and sounded exactly like you."

Capitano remained silent for a moment. He turned his head toward the staircase, then addressed you again. There was no disbelief in his voice; on the contrary, he began asking questions more thoroughly than an ordinary misunderstanding would have required.

"Could you tell me more about the encounter?"

You described what had happened: the books on the table, the conversation about fortifications, the invitation to the conservatory, and how he had helped gather the selected volumes.

The First Harbinger listened attentively. When you mentioned the invitation, he lowered his head for several seconds, as though considering something, but then continued asking about the details. Capitano was not accustomed to leaving such discrepancies unexplained, especially when they concerned his own actions.

"Did he mention any names? Did he refer to specific divisions or recent orders?"

"No. We only talked about books and the walk."

"I understand," he replied, then thought for a moment.

Capitano looked toward the library. Servants continued passing behind you, and he apparently decided that it would be better to continue the conversation somewhere quieter.

"I would like to verify a few circumstances. Would you mind if we returned there?"

You agreed, and the First Harbinger accompanied you back. Along the way, he barely spoke, but several times he clarified the location of the table and the approximate time of the encounter. As you passed the council chamber, Capitano asked the officer on duty to prepare the attendance register without explaining his reasons.

---

The elderly archivist was still sitting behind his desk.

The library had become noticeably quieter. Most visitors had already left, several lamps had been extinguished, and the young assistants had begun collecting the books that had been left behind. New catalog cards lay on the main desk, which the archivist was sorting into small drawers.

When you entered, he rose and respectfully greeted Capitano. The old man looked somewhat tired after the working day, but he immediately recognized the tall visitor and evidently saw nothing unusual in his return.

"Good evening, Lord Capitano. Have you forgotten something?"

The First Harbinger stopped. He did not rush to answer, carefully examining the archivist as though he wanted to make certain that the man really was addressing him as someone who had already visited the library that day.

"Did we meet today, Mr. Archivist?"

"Of course," the man replied, looking at him in surprise. "You came around two o'clock. You were examining historical volumes in the far section. Her Highness joined you a little later."

The archivist spoke quite calmly. He even pointed toward the appropriate passage, as though trying to remind Capitano where they had met. But when he noticed that the First Harbinger was in no hurry to agree, his confidence weakened somewhat.

Capitano slowly turned toward the library table.

"Are you certain it was me?"

The archivist became confused. He adjusted his spectacles, then glanced at you, clearly trying to understand whether he had made some mistake.

"Of course, Lord Capitano. I even helped your companion find one of the books."

"What companion?" the First Harbinger clarified, maintaining a calm tone.

The old man thought for a moment. For a while, he sorted through the cards lying on his desk, although the information he needed clearly wasn't contained in them.

"I believe you were alone. Forgive me, I must have confused you with another visitor."

Capitano approached the table where you had spoken with him that afternoon. Beside the armchair lay the book the stranger had been examining before you arrived.

The First Harbinger picked it up and studied its cover. Traces of old embossing remained on the worn binding, and between the pages was a paper bookmark that you had seen during the afternoon conversation.

"This volume is not included in the general catalog," he said, addressing the archivist. "It is kept in the restricted section of the collection."

"Yes, Lord Capitano," the old man confirmed. "But you asked for it yourself. I assumed permission had already been granted."

"Who issued the book?"

The archivist pointed toward a young assistant who was arranging volumes beside a distant cabinet. The young man immediately set the books aside and approached you, trying not to make noise with his heavy soles against the wooden floor.

Capitano invited him closer. The young man confirmed that he had indeed brought the book to someone wearing the First Harbinger's armor. According to him, the visitor had given the exact storage number and asked him to unlock the cabinet.

"Did he introduce himself?" Capitano asked.

"No, Lord Capitano," the assistant replied. "I recognized you by your armor and voice."

The young attendant was visibly nervous. He apologized several times for failing to check the authorization, but the First Harbinger did not reprimand him. Under ordinary circumstances, few people would have thought to demand identification from someone who looked and sounded exactly like Capitano.

The First Harbinger closed the book and carefully placed it on the table.

"I understand. Thank you for your explanations."

He asked the archivist to temporarily restrict access to the collection's closed section and record the names of everyone who had visited that day. The old man immediately began searching for the lending register, while the assistant went to check the locks on the cabinets.

Only after that did Capitano suggest that you step out into the corridor. He waited for the library door to close, then spent some time examining the opposite wall, where the schedule of the archival departments was displayed.

"I believe what has happened requires the attention of palace security," he said once the library door had closed behind you.

"Do you think someone was deliberately pretending to be you?"

"I cannot say for certain yet. However, someone used my name to gain access to documents," he replied, lowering his voice slightly because two servants were passing nearby.

Capitano stopped beside a window. A thin layer of frost was gradually forming on the glass, and beyond it, the palace paths illuminated by lanterns were visible. For a while, the First Harbinger watched a guard walking through the inner courtyard.

"And judging by what you've told me, this person is sufficiently familiar with my habits."

You remembered the invitation to the conservatory.

"Then it would be better not to go there this evening?"

"I would strongly recommend refraining from the walk," he replied. "Until the circumstances have been clarified, I will order the conservatory and the adjoining corridors to be inspected."

The First Harbinger remained silent for several seconds. Then his voice became somewhat softer. He apparently remembered that everything had begun with an invitation for an ordinary walk and did not want the situation to cause you unnecessary distress.

"My apologies, Your Highness. I assume you were expecting to spend a pleasant evening."

"It's all right. It's just rather strange," you replied.

"I agree," Capitano said, looking toward the staircase.

Capitano accompanied you to the staircase leading to your chambers and asked one of the officers on duty to escort you the rest of the way. His order sounded routine, but the soldier immediately noticed that the First Harbinger was treating the situation quite seriously.

Before leaving, he lingered for a moment.

"And one more thing, Your Highness."

You turned toward him.

"If this person appears again and attempts to speak with you, please do not agree to go anywhere with him. Even if he looks exactly like me."

You nodded, and Capitano respectfully inclined his head before heading toward the command post. Along the way, he was already compiling a list of necessary checks, beginning with the officers who had attended the military council and ending with every attendant who had access to the library's restricted collection.

---

The following morning, it became clear that similar incidents had occurred before.

The first to come forward was one of the palace stewards. He reported that the evening before last, he had seen Capitano near the northern gallery, although the First Harbinger had been outside the capital at that time, inspecting units stationed at a border garrison.

The steward described the encounter in detail. According to him, the First Harbinger had stopped beside a window and asked which rooms in the western part of the palace had recently undergone repairs. The man had attached no particular importance to the question, assuming that Capitano was interested in the condition of the old passages for security reasons.

Then a maid came forward, claiming that the First Harbinger had asked her about the location of the guest rooms and the schedules of the attendants responsible for maintaining the winter conservatory.

She remembered that the conversation had taken place near the servants' staircase. Capitano had supposedly spoken calmly and even thanked her for her assistance before heading toward the administrative wing. The girl particularly remembered his heavy cloak and dark gloves, since the stranger had stood close enough for her to make out the metal fastenings.

Later, the officer on duty in the eastern wing reported an order allegedly received from Capitano. The document stated that the patrol route passing near the conservatory needed to be temporarily changed.

At first, the officer had not attached much importance to the order. However, after yesterday's incident, he decided to verify whether the First Harbinger had really issued it.

Capitano immediately requested the original document.

The signature looked correct. The seal matched the samples used by his office, and the wording followed his usual formal style. Even the arrangement of individual clauses and the abbreviations of military positions matched those normally used by his secretaries.

The only problem was that he had never signed that order.

By noon, Pierro, Capitano, the head of palace security, and several officers had gathered in one of the closed council chambers. At the First Harbinger's request, you were also present, since you remained the only person who had managed to speak with the stranger for a sufficiently long time.

The room was located deep within the administrative wing. The tall windows were covered with thick curtains so that servants passing outside could not see what was happening within. Several lamps burned on the long table, while a small brazier stood near the far cabinet, maintaining the warmth. The officers spoke quietly, occasionally consulting the duty registers.

Statements from servants, duty registers, and the forged order lay on the table. Some documents had been marked in red ink because they contained information about the stranger's movements through restricted areas of the palace.

"So, we have at least four confirmed incidents," Pierro said, reviewing the documents. "In every statement, there is a person outwardly indistinguishable from the Captain. He visited service areas, gained access to archives, and issued orders to the guards."

The Director spoke evenly, without unnecessary irritation. However, he returned several times to the dates indicated in the registers, checking whether they corresponded to the witnesses' statements. Pierro was accustomed to dealing with political intrigues, attempts to forge documents, and false reports, but the current case presented a problem of a different nature.

"None of my assistants received instructions to alter the patrol routes," Capitano replied. "I have already checked the office records."

The head of security placed a second document before them. He first removed its protective cover and turned the page so that Pierro could examine the markings at the bottom.

"There is another detail. The person who delivered the order gave the password established for senior officers yesterday morning."

Capitano raised his head. Until then, he had been carefully studying the map of the stranger's movements, but now his attention was entirely focused on the security chief's report.

"Which one?"

The officer named the code word and the date it had been introduced.

The First Harbinger remained silent for several seconds. His posture barely changed, but the hand with which he held the edge of the document became still. He clearly remembered the circumstances under which the password had been approved and could not recall a single occasion when the information had been passed beyond the council.

"That password was approved during a closed meeting. The only people present were myself, the commanders of two divisions, and the Director."

Pierro set his quill aside. His expression became focused, as it usually did during discussions of particularly complicated military operations.

"I confirm that. Access to the meeting record is also restricted."

The head of security frowned.

"In that case, who could have given the password to an outsider?"

"That is what we have to find out," Pierro replied.

Capitano picked up the forged order and examined it again. He paused over the time of the patrol changes, then compared it with the schedules of the attendants responsible for the conservatory's lighting and heating.

"The patrol change is scheduled for nine o'clock in the evening," he observed.

You remembered the time arranged for the walk.

"Yesterday, he suggested meeting me at the conservatory specifically after nine."

Pierro raised his gaze to you. Until then, he had mostly been addressing the officers, but now he set the documents aside, giving you the opportunity to explain the invitation in greater detail. His expression became more attentive, and his voice took on a more cautious tone.

"So the order would have allowed the stranger to meet you without your usual escort?"

"It seems so," you replied.

Capitano returned the document to the table. For several seconds, he looked at the indicated time interval, understanding that the stranger had arranged in advance for the guards to be absent from the necessary location.

"The order was prepared in advance. He knew he was going to invite Her Highness."

"Or expected that she would agree," Pierro clarified, making a note in the register.

For some time, they discussed possible ways of entering the palace. The head of security suggested that the stranger might be using an illusion, but Capitano pointed to the statements of the library attendants: the person had not merely looked like the First Harbinger, but had also held heavy books, moved furniture, and left handwritten notes of his own.

One of the officers suggested investigating magical means of disguise that enemy agents might use. Another recalled cases involving artificial bodies during certain Fatui operations. Pierro listened to their proposals, but none of the theories yet explained how the stranger had obtained restricted military passwords.

Pierro decided to involve Dottore in the investigation.

"If we are dealing with an artificially created double, the Doctor may possess information about such technologies," he explained. "However, until the circumstances are clarified, we must not rule out other possibilities."

Capitano agreed. He remained beside the table, carefully examining the diagram of the western wing, and appeared calm. Nevertheless, the need to doubt the authenticity of his own orders presented a serious problem for him. Throughout his service, he had built his command upon his subordinates' trust, and now the stranger was exploiting that trust to gain access to restricted areas.

Then the First Harbinger addressed you.

"Your Highness, I would like to clarify one detail. During your meeting in the library, did this person touch you?"

You remembered how the stranger had helped gather the books and pulled out the armchair.

"No. I think he only handed me books."

"I understand," Capitano replied before returning to the discussion of security measures.

He asked no further questions, but Pierro noticed that the First Harbinger returned several times to the testimony concerning your conversation. Perhaps he was troubled by how freely the stranger had behaved around you and why he had decided to use someone else's identity to issue an ordinary invitation for a walk.

---

Over the next two days, the guards investigated every report of Capitano appearing in different parts of the palace.

Some statements turned out to be ordinary mistakes. One servant had mistaken an officer wearing a similar cloak for the First Harbinger. Another had confused the date of the encounter. Several reports concerned Capitano's actual movements and were confirmed by the officers accompanying him.

However, several incidents remained unexplained.

Particularly strange was the testimony of a young guardsman stationed near the western wing. He claimed that he had spoken with Capitano around midnight, when the First Harbinger was attending a meeting with Pierro.

The guardsman remembered the encounter well because his shift had nearly ended, and almost no one remained in the corridor. Every other lamp was burning, snow was falling more heavily outside the windows, and the young man was preparing to hand over his post to a colleague when he heard familiar heavy footsteps.

According to the soldier, the person he had spoken with asked about the condition of the old service passages connecting the library to the winter garden. He then named several officers and ordered documents to be delivered to the archive.

The guardsman carried out the order.

But when Capitano later examined the delivered papers, he discovered among them a diagram of an underground passage that had long been closed.

The document still bore old repairmen's markings, inspection dates, and several notes concerning faulty lighting.

The passage belonged to an older section of the palace and had not been used for several decades.

Access to it was held only by security personnel and certain representatives of the administration.

In the margins of the diagram, a short note had been written in handwriting resembling Capitano's:

"Restore the passage. Check the locks. Leave the northern door unobstructed."

The First Harbinger immediately revoked the order.

Pierro instructed the guards to inspect the underground rooms. During the inspection, they discovered that the lock on one of the doors had indeed been replaced recently, although no corresponding authorization had been issued.

The underground passage lay below the level of the main utility rooms. Moisture covered the stone walls, and some of the lamps had long since stopped functioning. The soldiers had to use portable lights to inspect the staircases and locked doors. Traces of recent repairs remained in one corridor: stone dust lay on the floor, and a crate of tools stood near the wall.

The soldiers found no signs of forced entry.

However, large footprints remained on the stone steps, matching the size of the First Harbinger's boots. The impressions led from the recently replaced lock toward an old service staircase before disappearing in an area where the floor was covered with a thick layer of dried construction compound.

---

The next encounter occurred on the evening of the third day.

You were heading toward the western part of the palace to deliver several documents to the Tsaritsa's secretary. Since the investigation had begun, you had been assigned an additional escort, although inside the residential wing, the guards tried to keep their distance so as not to interfere with ordinary work.

By this time, most palace servants had already heard about the strange incidents. Some maids tried not to linger near closed rooms, while young officers checked service passes more frequently than usual. Nevertheless, the residential part of the palace retained its familiar atmosphere: conversations came through open doors, servants carried evening trays, and the smell of freshly baked bread spread through the corridors from a nearby kitchen.

As you passed the winter conservatory, you noticed a familiar figure.

Capitano stood beside a glass door, speaking with an elderly gardener. A cart carrying flowerpots stood nearby, and tools for tending the plants lay on a small table. Through the glass, you could see the tall stems of rare flowers and a narrow path paved with pale stone. The temperature inside was kept fairly high, so a thin layer of condensation had formed on the lower part of the doors.

The gardener bowed respectfully and headed down the corridor, leaving the First Harbinger near the entrance.

Capitano turned toward you. He appeared entirely calm, as though the meeting were an ordinary coincidence and had nothing to do with the events of the previous few days.

"Your Highness. I'm glad we managed to meet."

You stopped several steps away from him.

"Captain?"

"Yes," he replied, inclining his head slightly. "I hope I haven't disturbed you."

He looked entirely ordinary. The same dark armor, heavy cloak, and helmet concealing his face. Even the small scratch on the metal fastening of his right glove was in its usual place. Traces of melted snow were visible on his cloak, as though he had recently returned from outside.

"Did you want to discuss something?" you asked.

"First of all, I wanted to apologize," Capitano replied, adjusting his glove. "Our walk never took place."

You looked at him more carefully.

"You know why."

"I assume you had reasons to decline," he said. "However, I had hoped that the invitation itself had not caused you any inconvenience."

He spoke with his usual restraint, but a slight caution could be heard in his voice, as though he wanted to discover how you felt about the meeting that had never taken place. At the same time, your companion seemed in no hurry to leave and did not allow himself to become distracted by the servants passing nearby.

Beyond the glass doors of the conservatory, tall plants stood along narrow pathways. Near the ceiling, the blades of a ventilation mechanism turned slowly, while one of the gardeners worked at the far end of the room. Through the door, which had not been closed tightly, came the smell of damp earth and the faint scent of flowers, unusual for the snow-covered palace.

You remembered the real Capitano's request not to agree to meetings with the stranger.

"Were you at the military council today?" you asked.

Your companion turned his head slightly. He did not look surprised by the question, although it differed noticeably from the usual subject of your conversations.

"No. I had plenty of free time today."

"I see."

He noticed your restraint but made no attempt to hurry the conversation. For several seconds, Capitano watched you, then carefully moved closer to the wall to clear the way for two servants carrying crates.

"If you wish, we can remain here, near the entrance. I wasn't going to keep you long."

You looked toward the corridor from which the guards accompanying you were supposed to appear.

Capitano followed your gaze. His movements remained calm, but he also looked toward the staircase for a moment, listening to the footsteps around the corner.

"Are you waiting for someone?"

"The guards should be nearby," you replied.

"Of course," he agreed. "After the recent incidents, caution is entirely justified."

You looked at him again.

"Do you know about the investigation?"

"In general terms."

"Then you understand why I can't go with you now."

Your companion remained silent for several seconds. Then he carefully folded his hands behind his back. He did not appear angry, but the invitation apparently meant more to him than he wanted to show.

"I understand," he replied. "Although I must admit, I had expected that you would be glad to see me."

The statement sounded calm enough, but there was something unusual about it for Capitano. The First Harbinger rarely allowed himself to assume that anyone might find his company particularly pleasant. Usually, he expressed such thoughts much more cautiously, preferring to speak of his own enjoyment of a meeting only after the other person had shown a desire to continue the conversation.

"Why did you think that?" you asked.

He moved a little closer, stopping at a respectful distance. Light from the wall lamp slid across the metal fastenings of his armor, and for a moment, it seemed that the person standing before you was the entirely ordinary Capitano you were accustomed to seeing at the palace.

"Because I myself am always glad to see you."

You did not have time to answer.

Footsteps sounded at the far end of the corridor. Two guards appeared from around the corner and immediately stopped when they noticed the First Harbinger's figure.

One of them was clearly surprised: before leaving for duty, they had been informed that the real Capitano was in the administrative wing. For a while, the officer looked at the tall man near the conservatory, then cautiously approached.

"Lord Capitano?" one of them said in surprise.

Capitano turned toward the officer.

"Good evening. Are you escorting Her Highness?"

"Yes, Lord Capitano," the soldier replied, coming closer. "We were ordered to..."

He fell silent when he noticed a small sign on his companion's glove.

Several days earlier, the head of security had ordered that soldiers accompanying the princess use a special method of identity verification if they encountered the First Harbinger.

The guardsman carefully touched the fastening on his own bracer. The movement was almost impossible to notice from the outside, but the second soldier immediately understood the signal and slightly changed his position, freeing himself to draw his weapon quickly.

"Forgive me, Lord Capitano. We need to verify your..."

He did not manage to finish.

Capitano took a step backward and turned toward the conservatory doors. His movements remained calm enough that a casual observer would have suspected nothing unusual. He did not even raise his voice when he addressed you again.

"In that case, I won't keep you," he said, addressing you. "I hope we'll have another opportunity to talk."

Before the officer could approach, the First Harbinger opened the glass door and stepped inside.

The guards followed him. One of the soldiers reported the possible discovery of the stranger through his communication device, while the other headed toward the far exit to block the route through the utility rooms.

You could hear them giving orders to the gardeners, inspecting neighboring rooms, and contacting the command post. A commotion began inside the conservatory: one of the workers moved a heavy cart of plants aside, while another hurried to close the service door leading to the tool storage rooms.

However, several minutes later, it became clear that no one had seen the armored man leave the conservatory.

Both exits were guarded.

The windows were closed because of the frost.

The gardeners claimed that the tall man had indeed passed them, but no one had noticed where he went afterward. One of the workers remembered briefly hearing a metallic clatter near the southern wall, but had assumed that a tool had fallen.

Only one unusual detail was discovered during the inspection.

Near the southern wall, where pots containing rare plants stood, a small metal fastening from a glove lay on the floor. Several drops of water that had dripped from the leaves remained on the stone tiles nearby, and between the flowerpots were traces of a crate that had recently been moved.

It was exactly like those used by Capitano.

---

The real First Harbinger arrived at the conservatory less than twenty minutes later.

He listened attentively to the guards' report, examined the discovered fastening, and walked several times along the path the stranger had taken. Then he asked the gardeners to show him the service rooms and old maintenance doors.

It was stuffy inside compared with the cool palace corridors. Moisture settled on the glass, and the quiet murmur of water could be heard near the heating pipes. Several rare plants had been damaged because the soldiers had been forced to move heavy pots during their inspection to examine the space behind them.

Capitano did not hurry the security personnel. He carefully checked the positions of the doors, examined the lower parts of the window frames, and asked the gardeners to list every worker who had been present when the stranger appeared.

Nothing suspicious was found.

When the inspection was finished, Capitano asked you to recount the conversation. He stopped beside a small table holding gardening tools, giving you an opportunity to recall the sequence of events calmly.

You repeated everything you remembered, including the apology for the walk that had never taken place.

"He said he had expected to meet you?" the First Harbinger clarified.

"Yes. And that he's always glad to see me."

Capitano lowered his gaze to the metal fastening he held in his hand. For several seconds, he examined its surface, although he had already established its similarity to his own equipment.

"I see."

You paused briefly.

"Isn't it strange that he says things like that?"

The First Harbinger did not answer immediately. Over his years of service, he had encountered various methods of psychological manipulation, including imitations of familiar voices and the use of personal information. However, the present situation concerned matters he preferred not to reveal to anyone.

"His intentions remain unknown. Perhaps he's trying to gain your trust."

"But why does he use your appearance specifically?"

"That is one of the questions we need to answer."

Capitano placed the fastening in a small evidence case. Then he handed it to an officer, ordering the item to be delivered to Dottore without delay. There was no irritation in his voice, but his orders had become shorter and more specific.

He remained silent for a while before cautiously adding:

"Your Highness, if this person attempts to meet you again, do not expect his behavior to correspond to mine. He has already demonstrated that he can reproduce my appearance and manner of speaking quite convincingly."

"Do you think he knows something personal about you?"

"It's possible."

You remembered how confidently the stranger had discussed the history of the northern fortresses.

"What if he knows everything?"

Capitano turned toward you. The question troubled him as well, because ordinary security measures were based on the assumption that outsiders did not possess the personal information of high-ranking officers. Now, however, they had to consider the possibility that the stranger knew far more than previously believed.

The question apparently troubled him as well.

"Then we'll have to change our methods of identity verification," he replied. "Ordinary passwords won't be enough."

---

Dottore received the discovered fastening the following morning.

The Second Harbinger examined it for some time using several instruments, then demanded a sample of material from Capitano's actual armor.

The laboratory was located in a separate section of the medical wing. Long tables held glass vessels, metal instruments, and devices fitted with small elemental energy accumulators. Several assistants worked with records, carefully pouring solutions from one flask into another. The room smelled of alcohol-based preparations and heated oil used to maintain the equipment.

The results of the examination were unusual.

The metal parts of the fastenings were practically identical. The composition of the alloy, the structure of the surface, and even the marks left by the manufacturing process matched. However, microscopic patches of a dark substance that Dottore could not immediately classify were found on the object discovered in the conservatory.

When heated, it gradually lost its shape. When exposed to elemental energy, it began changing its structure before returning to its original state. During one experiment, the substance formed thin fibers for several seconds, which quickly withdrew into the main sample.

"Curious," Dottore remarked, observing the results of the experiment. "If I didn't know where the sample came from, I would assume we were dealing with an artificially created material."

Capitano stood beside the laboratory table. He preferred not to approach the instruments unnecessarily and listened carefully to the scholar's explanations. Several times, Dottore asked him to demonstrate the construction of the real fastening so that he could compare the mechanisms.

"Can you determine who the fastening belonged to?"

"Not yet. But I doubt an ordinary craftsman made it," Dottore replied, carefully covering the sample with a glass plate.

Dottore turned several pages of his own notes.

"Have you ever encountered creatures of the Abyss capable of taking human form?"

"Yes. During certain expeditions."

"And how convincing was the imitation?"

"It depended on the creature. Some could copy appearance and voice. However, reproducing memories presented them with considerably greater difficulty," Capitano explained, recalling several similar cases.

Dottore thoughtfully tapped a finger against the table.

"Then we have a certain problem. Judging by the witnesses' statements, your double possesses information an ordinary imitator should not have."

The First Harbinger did not reply. He looked at the fastening lying beneath the glass, trying to remember whether he had encountered similar materials during expeditions into the ruined structures of Khaenri'ah.

"For example, military passwords. Or restricted archival materials. Or the circumstances of certain events from your past," the scholar continued. "I believe we should investigate exactly where he obtains his information."

"Are you suggesting an influence on memory?" Capitano asked.

"Among the possible explanations. Though I wouldn't rule out more unpleasant possibilities."

Dottore closed the folder and lingered near the instrument, which continued showing a weak reaction to the dark substance. His professional curiosity was obvious: a sample like this was of considerably greater interest to him than an ordinary forgery of military equipment.

"I'll need records of your latest encounters with the Abyss. Particularly information about damage to your equipment and any unusual incidents."

"I'll provide the necessary documents," Capitano replied.

When the First Harbinger was already preparing to leave, Dottore unexpectedly stopped him. The scholar examined his own notes for several seconds before speaking in a deliberately casual tone.

"And one more thing, Captain. Your double is displaying a rather specific interest in Her Majesty's daughter."

Capitano turned his head.

"I'm aware."

"I'm curious as to why. If the creature is reproducing your memories, it may possess information about your personal attachments."

The First Harbinger looked at the scholar for a while. He understood perfectly well where the conversation was heading and had no desire to discuss such matters in a laboratory where several assistants were present.

"I suggest we concentrate on the nature of the creature, Doctor."

Dottore gave a slight chuckle.

"Of course. I'm merely clarifying the possible mechanisms behind its behavior."

Capitano left the laboratory without continuing the conversation. Already in the corridor, he stopped to ask the officer accompanying him about the security situation in the western wing. However, even after returning to his official duties, Dottore's unpleasant remark continued returning to his thoughts.

---

Over the following week, the palace gradually became accustomed to the new security measures.

Pierro ordered changes to the procedures for accessing archives, increased verification of official orders, and temporarily restricted movement through several old corridors. Officers received new instructions requiring them to confirm certain orders through the command post even when they were delivered personally by the Harbingers.

At first, these orders caused inconvenience. Servants had to contact the officers on duty more frequently, some internal passages were closed for repairs, and documents from the archives were now issued only after an additional check. However, most employees quickly grew accustomed to the changes, especially after new reports about the stranger began to appear.

The measures proved necessary.

One morning, the head of security discovered an order stating that several divisions were supposed to leave the palace for unscheduled training exercises. The document had been signed in Capitano's name.

However, the real First Harbinger was in Pierro's office at that moment and had issued no such order. When the officer brought the document for verification, Capitano examined it carefully and ordered the troop movement to be canceled immediately.

On another occasion, a maid reported meeting Capitano near your chambers late in the evening. He had asked whether you were feeling well, whether you planned to leave the palace in the coming days, and what flowers you usually preferred.

The conversation had taken place near a staircase used by the servants. The girl was carrying clean towels and initially had not even understood why the First Harbinger was interested in such personal details. However, his questions had sounded polite enough, and she assumed he was asking about preparations for a gift or an official event.

The maid answered his questions, deciding that the First Harbinger was interested in preparations for some official event.

The next morning, a small bouquet was discovered near your door.

White winter flowers were wrapped in thin paper. A note written in neat handwriting accompanied the bouquet. The stems were tied with a pale ribbon, and small branches bearing silvery leaves were arranged among the flowers. In the morning, the bouquet gave off a faint, fresh fragrance that quickly spread through the entrance hall.

"I hope this small gift will brighten your morning. Please forgive the circumstances that have made our meetings so brief lately."

There was no signature.

You handed the note to the guards, after which the document reached Pierro. The bouquet itself was examined for foreign substances and traces of elemental influence, but nothing unusual was discovered.

Capitano examined it that evening.

He carefully read the few lines before placing the paper on the table. The handwriting resembled his own so closely that the First Harbinger had to compare individual letters against several official notes. Even the characteristic abbreviations and arrangement of words on the page matched.

"The handwriting matches mine," he said.

"We noticed that as well," Pierro replied. "Dottore is continuing to examine the composition of the ink and paper."

"He learned which flowers Her Highness likes through the servants," the First Harbinger observed. "Therefore, not all information is known to him in advance."

"Possibly. But that doesn't explain how he gained access to your personal memories," Pierro replied, setting the note aside.

The Director watched Capitano's reaction carefully. Officially, the bouquet was another piece of evidence that the stranger was attempting to approach the princess. However, Pierro could hardly fail to notice how personal the double's behavior was gradually becoming.

Capitano, for his part, felt increasingly irritated by the necessity of reading words he had never dared to say himself. He disliked that the stranger allowed himself to address you with such tenderness, using his voice and handwriting. At the same time, he understood that his own displeasure must not interfere with the investigation.

Pierro handed him another document.

"This morning, one of our officers reported a conversation with the stranger. He mentioned a battle that took place long before the founding of the Fatui."

Capitano accepted the statement.

It said that the person wearing the First Harbinger's armor had told the soldier about an old military campaign, named several Khaenri'ahn commanders, and described the layout of fortifications destroyed five hundred years earlier.

Capitano recognized the information. He remembered the fortress's layout, the name of the officer who had commanded its defense, and the circumstances of the retreat, which he had never discussed in detail with Fatui personnel.

He had indeed participated in that campaign.

Some of the people named had been close comrades of his.

However, their names had never appeared in official Fatui documents.

"Are you certain none of your former comrades could have passed on this information?" Pierro asked.

"Most of them died long ago," Capitano replied, returning the document. "The few who remain alive are not in a position to move freely through the palace."

Pierro remained silent for a while. He carefully reviewed the list of names mentioned, then closed the folder and rested his palm on its cover.

"Then we'll have to consider the theory Dottore proposed."

"An influence on memory?" Capitano clarified.

"Yes. And perhaps not only on memory."

Capitano said nothing. In recent days, he had increasingly been forced to revisit memories he preferred to leave in the past. Now the stranger not only knew them but freely told outsiders about people who had died long before the Fatui existed.

---

That evening, Capitano came to you accompanied by one of the officers.

You were in a small sitting room where you usually read or worked on letters. A small table with a tea service stood near the fireplace, and an open book lay on the windowsill. It was already dark outside, and the wall lamps were reflected in the glass. Steady warmth came from the fireplace, making it possible to remain in the room without heavy winter clothing.

The First Harbinger asked permission to enter before stopping near the door.

"Good evening, Your Highness."

"Good evening, Captain," you replied, setting the book aside.

He asked the officer to wait in the corridor and approached. Before speaking, Capitano carefully removed the glove from his left hand to adjust the fastening on a small folder he had brought with him. His movements were somewhat slower than usual, as though he were carefully considering the conversation ahead.

"I wanted to inform you of the latest results of the investigation."

Capitano explained in detail the soldiers' statements, the forged orders, and Dottore's research. He tried to explain everything calmly, without concealing that the stranger's abilities were becoming increasingly troubling. Several times, the First Harbinger referred to the documents to clarify dates and the sequence of incidents.

You listened to him and asked whether they had managed to determine the double's origin.

"Not yet," the First Harbinger replied. "However, we have established that he possesses certain information from my past."

"How far back?" you clarified.

"In some cases, we're talking about events that happened five hundred years ago."

Capitano paused briefly. He stood beside the small table and watched your reaction attentively. Despite the official reason for his visit, it was clearly important to him to make certain that the new information would not cause you excessive concern.

"Furthermore, he continues attempting to meet you. Pierro believes this may be connected to his primary objective."

You looked at the bouquet lying near the fireplace, which the guards had returned after examining it. The white flowers were still fresh, and the thin paper had been carefully folded beside the vase.

"He even sent flowers."

"I'm aware," Capitano replied, following your gaze.

The First Harbinger examined the bouquet for a while before cautiously asking:

"Your Highness, would you permit me to ask a somewhat personal question?"

"Of course," you replied.

"When you spoke with this person, did you notice anything unusual about his attitude toward you?"

You remembered the encounter in the conservatory.

"He was very attentive. And he said things that were rather unusual for you."

"What exactly?" Capitano asked, turning his head slightly.

"For example, that he's always glad to see me. And that he'd hoped to spend the evening with me."

Capitano lowered his head slightly. For some time, he examined the fastening on his glove, although there had long since been nothing left to adjust. He found it difficult to separate his professional interest in the stranger's behavior from his own feelings about what he had heard.

"I see."

"You've never said anything like that," you remarked.

The First Harbinger kept his gaze on his gloves. He remembered numerous occasions when he had intended to tell you something more personal but had preferred to limit himself to ordinary politeness. Now someone else was saying those words, and in his own voice.

"That's true."

You looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

Capitano ran his thumb along the fastening of his bracer, then carefully folded his hands behind his back. His usual restraint now required more effort from him than during any official conversation.

"I am accustomed to maintaining a certain distance in my interactions with you, Your Highness. Your position requires respectful treatment, and I would not want my personal preferences to cause you any inconvenience."

He fell silent for a moment. The firewood crackled quietly in the room, and footsteps of an officer checking the corridor could be heard beyond the door. Capitano apparently was not certain how appropriate it was to continue such a conversation under the present circumstances.

"However, I must admit that this person chose words that probably could have come from me under different circumstances."

You raised your head.

"What do you mean?"

Capitano looked at you.

He took several seconds to choose his answer before cautiously saying:

"I truly enjoy your company. But for now, I believe it would be wiser to return to the matter of your safety."

The First Harbinger continued the conversation about the investigation, but later, after leaving your chambers, he spent a long time remembering his own words. He felt that he had once again missed an opportunity to speak openly with you, although this time the circumstances would hardly have allowed him to do so peacefully.

He understood that the stranger had already managed to tell you considerably more.

---

The following day, the investigation took a new direction.

Dottore established that the dark substance found on the fastening possessed properties resembling materials discovered in certain ancient Khaenri'ahn structures that had been affected by the Abyss.

According to the scholar, such formations sometimes preserved traces of energy and information with which they had come into contact. However, creating a complete copy of a person that possessed their memories and was capable of making independent decisions was considered practically impossible.

Dottore conducted several additional experiments. He attempted to expose the substance to different elemental energies, altered the temperature, and observed how the sample reacted to the presence of materials from the real Capitano's armor. Some reactions repeated themselves, while others proved unpredictable.

When Pierro asked whether this meant the double had been created by an unknown method, Dottore replied that he would prefer not to draw any final conclusions yet.

"Suppose something gained access to the Captain's memory," he said, arranging his notes on the table. "Then it could have learned his name, habits, military passwords, and the circumstances of certain events from his past."

"But how did it reproduce his body?" Pierro asked, carefully examining the diagram the scholar had prepared.

"Perhaps it used material capable of changing its shape. Perhaps we're dealing with a more complicated mechanism. I need the subject itself for examination."

Capitano stood beside the window. He listened attentively to the conversation, although with every new hypothesis, it became increasingly clear that the stranger might possess considerably more independence than an ordinary artificial copy.

"And why does it continue seeking meetings with the princess?" he asked.

Dottore raised his head. Interested notes entered the scholar's voice, since this particular question apparently seemed the most important to him for further research.

"That is precisely the most interesting question."

The scholar picked up one of the notes.

"Judging by the double's behavior, he does not limit himself to reproducing your official duties. He chooses certain actions, displays personal preferences, and attempts to gain the attention of a particular individual."

"What are you getting at, Doctor?" Pierro clarified.

"That copying memories may include reproducing emotional connections. If the original person feels an attachment to someone, a creature that has gained access to the corresponding memories may begin behaving in a similar way."

Capitano slowly turned his head. For a while, he watched Dottore, trying to understand how seriously the scholar regarded his own hypothesis.

"Are you suggesting that it reproduces my feelings?"

"I'm suggesting that as a possibility," Dottore replied. "But notice that it is capable of making decisions different from yours. Therefore, even with a common origin of memories, its behavior will not necessarily correspond entirely to your own."

Pierro looked thoughtfully at the documents. His primary concern was the safety of the palace, but it was now becoming clear that the stranger might act according to its own desires rather than merely carrying out a predetermined program.

"So it could be using the Captain's personal attachment for its own purposes?"

"Or genuinely experiencing something similar," Dottore remarked. "I find the second possibility much more interesting."

Capitano did not reply.

He already understood what conclusions the scholar might have drawn. The possibility that the double genuinely felt something similar toward you troubled him considerably more than the simple use of someone else's appearance. Now he would have to confront a creature that perhaps knew more about his own desires than anyone else living in the palace.

---

That evening, the stranger appeared again.

This time, he was seen near the old palace chapel in the western wing. Several servants claimed that the First Harbinger had been standing near the closed doors, speaking with one of the guards.

The chapel was rarely used for official events. On ordinary days, only certain courtiers and servants came here, preferring to spend some time in peaceful surroundings. After sunset, the western wing was almost deserted, so the appearance of a tall man in armor immediately attracted the attention of the soldier on duty.

When the soldier attempted to clarify his orders, Capitano supposedly asked him to deliver an invitation to visit the chapel to the Tsaritsa's daughter.

The guardsman refused to carry out the order without additional confirmation.

The stranger did not insist. According to the soldier, he even thanked him for conscientiously performing his duties and spent some time examining the old chapel doors before continuing the conversation.

He merely remarked that the princess had probably already heard of his desire to speak with her, after which he headed toward the neighboring corridor.

When the soldier attempted to follow him, the passage was empty.

The following day, another note was discovered in the chapel.

It lay on a small bench near the altar, beside an open book that, according to the attendants, no one had brought there. The paper had been carefully folded in half, and your name was written on its outer side. The ink had already dried completely, although the guards on duty claimed that the bench had been empty shortly before the note was discovered.

The note was addressed to you.

"I understand that my recent attempts to meet you may have seemed inappropriate. Please forgive my persistence. However, I would like to have at least one opportunity to speak with you without intermediaries, without questions from the guards, and without having to explain every word I say.

I am not asking you to trust me. But if you wish to know why I continue seeking these meetings, come to the chapel after the evening service.

I will be waiting."

Pierro ordered the western wing closed until the circumstances had been clarified.

Capitano personally checked the positions of the guards and requested additional units to observe the service passages. He also ordered the old maintenance rooms to be inspected, since the stranger's appearances had already been connected several times with places where ordinary surveillance was difficult.

However, it soon became clear that locked doors and reinforced patrols were not producing the expected results.

The stranger continued appearing in places where no one expected him.

Sometimes he spoke with servants. Sometimes he simply walked through the corridors without paying attention to those around him. At first, the guards attempted to pursue him whenever he was discovered, but gradually it became clear that he was capable of disappearing from rooms without using the ordinary exits.

One of the guards claimed to have seen him near the armory, although both entrances to the room had remained locked.

Another reported that the stranger had been standing beside a window in the empty council chamber, looking out over the palace square. When the soldier entered, the First Harbinger turned toward him, greeted him, and calmly left through the neighboring door.

But there was no one beyond the door.

Gradually, such reports stopped seeming like ordinary misunderstandings.

The servants began avoiding the old corridors after dark. Some officers refused to accept orders from Capitano without the presence of other Harbingers. Even in the Fatui dining hall, rumors began circulating that something capable of taking human form was inside the palace.

In the evenings, additional lamps were left burning in certain rooms. The maids tried to finish their work in the western wing before the changing of the guard, and several servants requested temporary transfers to other departments. Even experienced soldiers began looking over their shoulders more often when they heard familiar heavy footsteps behind them.

Capitano did not interfere with the discussions, although he understood how seriously the events were undermining trust in his orders. He continued performing his duties, verified the authenticity of incoming documents, and calmly answered the questions of officers who were now forced to confirm even his personal instructions.

Something else troubled him considerably more.

The double was gradually ceasing to conceal his interest in you.

---

Late in the evening, Pierro invited you to a small room used for closed meetings.

Capitano and Dottore were already there.

Heavy snow was falling outside, so the thick curtains had been left only halfway open. Several lamps burned on the table, while an officer stood near the door, checking the passes of everyone who entered. Pierro sat at the head of the table, Dottore was studying his notes beside one of the lamps, and Capitano stood near a map of the palace's older section.

Several documents, a map of the old part of the palace, and a drawing showing the arrangement of the underground passages lay on the table. Some areas had been marked in red ink, while small notes containing dates appeared beside the rooms the stranger visited most frequently.

"Your Highness," Pierro said when you entered. "Thank you for agreeing to come. We have received information that may help establish the stranger's identity."

You took the offered chair.

Dottore placed a small folder in front of you. He had prepared several excerpts from his research in advance, removing most of the complicated formulas so that the explanation would not require specialized medical or technical knowledge.

"Several days ago, we discovered that the double displays a particular interest in the restricted rooms of the western wing," he began. "At first, I assumed he was searching for certain documents. However, recent observations have forced me to reconsider that theory."

The scholar opened the folder and turned one of the pages so that you could see the routes marked on it.

"A certain pattern can be traced through the surveillance recordings and the guards' statements. The stranger appears in the parts of the palace you visit most frequently."

You looked at the map.

The library, conservatory, western gallery, and several passages you usually used on your way to your chambers were marked on it. Dottore had also highlighted the time of the stranger's appearance in each location. In some cases, it almost coincided with your usual walks or the completion of official engagements.

"But why those places specifically?" you asked.

"I believe he is attempting to approach you while avoiding direct confrontation with the guards," Pierro replied.

Capitano stood near the fireplace, listening attentively. He had already been shown the map before your arrival, but he still returned his gaze several times to the marked corridors, as though trying to determine how the stranger learned of your movements.

"There is another circumstance," he said. "Today, I gained access to the archival materials the stranger attempted to examine in the library."

The First Harbinger placed an old book on the table.

"These are records concerning military divisions of Khaenri'ah. Some of the information dates back to the period when I still served my homeland."

You glanced at the open page.

It contained a diagram of an old fortress, several names, and notes written in a language you did not know. The paper had darkened in places over time, and some lines were so badly damaged that they had to be reconstructed from the surviving fragments.

"What was he looking for?" you asked.

"It's not clear yet. However, among the marked pages is information about the origins of certain military rituals and methods of confirming commanders' identities."

Dottore looked attentively at Capitano. For several seconds, the scholar examined the open page, then shifted his gaze toward his own notes, clearly attempting to compare the new information with the results of his laboratory research.

"An interesting choice."

The First Harbinger continued:

"If the stranger truly possesses my memories, perhaps he is trying to understand his own origin. Or determine how greatly he differs from me."

You remained silent for a while, examining the book.

"And what are you planning to do?"

Pierro folded his hands on the table. He had prepared a plan for a possible operation in advance and now carefully watched how calmly you received the proposed measures.

"We intend to organize surveillance in the western chapel. The stranger has already tried several times to invite you there. He probably assumes that sooner or later, you will wish to hear his explanations."

Capitano turned toward the Director.

"I consider it necessary to ensure that Her Highness can leave the room at any moment."

"Of course," Pierro replied. "No one intends to leave the princess without an escort."

Dottore turned through his notes.

"Nevertheless, it is worth considering that ordinary methods of detention may prove ineffective. We still don't know how material this creature is."

Capitano looked at you. He understood perfectly well that your participation in the investigation might be useful, but he had no intention of concealing the possible risks. He did not want the necessity of dealing with the double to become another obligation you could not refuse.

"Your Highness, I will not ask you to participate in the investigation against your will. However, if you agree to be present, we can prepare the meeting in such a way as to minimize the risk."

Pierro explained the proposed plan in detail. The guards would take positions in the neighboring corridors, block the service exits, and establish surveillance of the chapel. Capitano intended to remain nearby, while Dottore had prepared several devices capable of detecting changes in elemental energy.

The officers were to maintain constant communication through portable communication devices. Two escape routes had been planned in case of a sudden attack, and the nearest medical post was ordered to remain ready. Capitano insisted that none of the soldiers take any sudden action without receiving his order: the stranger's abilities remained too poorly understood.

After discussing the necessary measures, you agreed to be present at the meeting.

Pierro scheduled the operation for the following evening.

---

By seven o'clock, the western wing of the palace had become almost completely deserted.

Officially, it had been closed for maintenance work. The servants were instructed to use the neighboring corridors, and several additional guard posts were established near the main staircase.

By evening, the snowfall had intensified noticeably. Beyond the tall windows, only the nearest palace lanterns could be seen, their light diffusing through the dense curtain of falling snow. Inside the western wing, the usual lighting was maintained, but most doors remained closed, and the soldiers' voices sounded considerably clearer than on ordinary days.

You arrived in a small room beside the chapel accompanied by two guards.

Capitano was already waiting there.

He stood beside a table on which a map showing the positions of the units had been laid out. One officer was reporting to him that preparations were complete, while another checked the operation of a portable communication device. Near the door stood a rack containing additional weapons that the officers had prepared in case it became necessary to detain the stranger.

The First Harbinger raised his head when you entered. His posture and manner of bearing gave no indication of whether he was nervous, but today's operation clearly required particular caution from him.

"Your Highness. Thank you for coming."

You noticed that today, he was armed considerably more heavily than usual. In addition to his sword, Capitano had taken several extra means of protection, and his officers had been ordered to maintain their distance from the stranger until receiving a special command.

"Is everyone ready?" you asked.

"Yes," he replied. "Pierro is observing from the neighboring room. Dottore has prepared the equipment."

Capitano approached a little closer. He stopped at a distance that allowed you to speak comfortably, and before continuing, cast a brief glance at the map showing the soldiers' positions.

"Before we begin, I would like to remind you once again: if at any point during the conversation you feel the need to leave, inform me. No one will prevent you."

You nodded.

The First Harbinger looked at you for a while before cautiously adding:

"And please do not regard the stranger's words as reliable information about me. Even if he claims to remember events from my life."

You raised your eyes.

"But what if he really knows your memories?"

"In that case, he may tell you many things I would have preferred to discuss myself," Capitano replied. "However, that does not give him the right to make decisions in my name."

He paused briefly. His fingers lingered near the fastening of his sword for a moment before he turned toward you again.

"Especially when it concerns you."

After that, the First Harbinger returned to the officers and issued his final orders. He personally checked that communication was functioning, clarified the positions of the reserve groups, and asked the soldiers not to approach the chapel without his command.

---

The chapel lay beyond two massive doors leading into a small hall with tall windows.

Old paintings depicting scenes from Snezhnaya's history hung on the walls. Wooden pews stood along the central aisle, and near the far window was a small table on which several candles had been left.

The room was illuminated by wall lamps. Because of the thick walls, sounds from the other parts of the palace barely reached it. It was somewhat cooler inside than in the neighboring rooms because the old windows did not retain heat well. Small wet marks left by the boots of guards who had recently inspected the room remained on the stone tiles near the entrance.

Some of the paintings on the walls had darkened with age. The gilded frames had long been in need of restoration, and the wooden pews creaked slightly even at the smallest movement. Near the far window was a narrow passage leading to a service door. The guards had inspected this section of the chapel particularly carefully.

You entered accompanied by Capitano. Two guards remained beside the doors, while several more soldiers took positions in the neighboring corridors.

The First Harbinger examined the room, checked the positions of the windows, and stopped not far from you. He listened for some time to the reports coming through the communication device, then adjusted the strap on his right glove.

"I believe all that remains is to wait," he said.

Several minutes passed peacefully.

Short reports from the guards came through the communication device. No one was approaching the western wing, the service passages remained closed, and Dottore's equipment had not yet produced any unusual readings.

Capitano stood beside one of the pews, occasionally shifting his attention from the main door to the distant passage. The wind was growing stronger outside the windows, and snow struck the glass in small gusts. Although the heating was working properly, the cold could be felt near the outer walls.

Gradually, the ordinary sounds of the palace almost stopped reaching the chapel. Only the soldiers' footsteps beyond the doors, the faint crackling of burning candles, and the occasional creaking of the old window frames remained.

Then one of the wall lamps went out.

Capitano turned his head. He immediately noticed the lamp because the others continued functioning normally.

Several seconds later, the lamp lit up again. Almost simultaneously, footsteps sounded from the distant passage.

The First Harbinger placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. He did not approach the source of the sound because he had to remain beside you, but he shifted his position slightly so that he could see both the passage and the main entrance at once.

"Who is in the corridor?" he asked through the communication device.

"No one, Lord Capitano," the officer on duty replied. "All posts are in position. The passage is closed."

The footsteps drew closer.

The sound was clear enough to identify the heavy tread of a person wearing armor. Between the steps came the quiet contact of metal plates, familiar to anyone who had repeatedly stood near the First Harbinger.

Then the door beside the far window opened.

Capitano entered the chapel.

He wore his usual dark armor, with a heavy cloak draped over his shoulder guards. The familiar scratch was visible on his right glove, and his helmet completely concealed his face. There was no snow on his clothes, as though he had come from the palace's interior rather than outside.

The man stopped near the entrance when he noticed you. He showed no surprise at seeing the real First Harbinger and did not even attempt to retreat when he saw the soldiers near the main door.

"Your Highness," he said. "Thank you for coming."

The real Capitano slowly straightened. He held himself calmly enough, but his attention was now entirely focused on the stranger. During the previous incidents, he had been forced to judge the double solely through other people's descriptions; now, a person reproducing even the smallest details of his appearance stood before him.

"Remain where you are," he ordered, addressing the stranger.

The other man turned his head toward him. The movement was entirely characteristic of Capitano, down to the slight turn of the shoulder with which the First Harbinger usually accompanied such gestures.

"I believe this meeting was inevitable."

The First Harbinger took a step forward. His boot struck the stone tile with a quiet sound, and his hand remained near the hilt of his sword.

"Identify yourself."

The stranger looked at him for a while. He apparently felt no need to conceal the resemblance and even allowed himself a brief pause before answering.

"You know my name."

"You are using my name and appearance without permission," Capitano replied. "I need to determine who you are and how you entered the palace."

The second Capitano carefully folded his hands behind his back. He behaved rather freely for someone surrounded by armed soldiers and showed no intention of resisting.

"You are asking questions you yourself cannot answer."

The First Harbinger did not change his position.

"Try explaining."

The stranger looked at you. His gaze lingered for several seconds longer than ordinary politeness required before he respectfully inclined his head.

"First of all, I would like to apologize to Her Highness. My attempts to meet you over the past several days have caused considerable inconvenience."

Capitano turned his head slightly. He had expected the stranger to explain his appearance or origin and clearly had no intention of allowing him to redirect the conversation toward you.

"You will speak to me."

"Of course," the double replied. "But I believe the princess has a right to know why I continue seeking her company."

The real First Harbinger did not answer immediately.

He had already heard from you about your conversations with the stranger, but this was the first time he was observing his behavior personally. The voice, movements, and manner of carrying himself were indeed almost indistinguishable from his own. Even small habits – adjusting the fastening on a glove, turning his head before answering, and pausing while choosing words – were reproduced with unpleasant accuracy.

Capitano felt entirely understandable distrust. However, what troubled him most was how calmly the double addressed you. The stranger did not attempt to use threats and did not demand obedience; on the contrary, he spoke as though he genuinely considered himself someone entitled to your attention.

"Are you claiming to possess my memories?" Capitano asked.

"To a considerable extent," the stranger replied.

"Then describe the circumstances of the last battle at the northern pass."

The double calmly listed the names of the divisions, the positions of the troops, and several orders Capitano had issued during the operation.

He spoke confidently, occasionally clarifying the positions of individual detachments and the times when reports had been received. Even the sequence of events was correct, including minor details that had not been recorded in official reports.

Then he described damage to an old fortress that had occurred long before the founding of the Fatui. He named an officer who had died during that campaign and described a conversation that the First Harbinger had never recorded in his reports.

Capitano listened without interrupting. Over five hundred years, he had rarely revisited memories of certain events from the past, and now he was forced to hear them spoken in his own voice by someone he was meeting for the first time.

When the stranger finished, he lowered his head slightly.

"Is that sufficient?" the double asked.

"You possess information from my past," the First Harbinger replied. "But that does not explain your origin."

"I'm afraid I don't possess a complete explanation myself."

The stranger looked at his own hand. He carefully bent his fingers several times, examining the metal plates of his glove, as though checking their construction or trying to reassure himself that the movement was familiar.

"I remember Khaenri'ah. I remember the people who served alongside us. I remember our final military campaign and what happened after the catastrophe. I know why we made the decision to join the Fatui, and I remember every battle you consider part of your own life."

He carefully turned his head toward the real Capitano.

"But I also remember things you have never told anyone."

The First Harbinger tensed slightly. Until then, the conversation had concerned the circumstances of his service, which could theoretically be reconstructed with sufficient access to documents. Now, however, the stranger clearly intended to move on to information of a far more personal nature.

"Continue."

The double looked at you again. His tone became somewhat softer, although outwardly, he continued to conduct himself with the same respect.

"For example, I remember how several months ago, you met Her Highness near the library. She asked you to tell her about a recent expedition, and you spent almost half an hour with her, although you were supposed to be attending a meeting."

Capitano remained silent.

"I remember how, after that, you intended several times to invite her for a walk, but on each occasion, found a reason to postpone the conversation."

The stranger inclined his head slightly.

"And I remember how you once brought her a book you had spent several weeks searching for, then explained the gift solely by saying that you had happened to discover the desired volume in the archives."

The First Harbinger slowly lowered his hand from the hilt of his sword. He remembered that day perfectly well, including the circumstances of the search for the book and his own embarrassment after you thanked him for the gift.

"That information is irrelevant to the investigation."

"On the contrary. I believe it is directly relevant," the double replied without raising his voice.

The stranger took a small step forward but stopped when Capitano once again placed his hand on his weapon. Several guards near the door shifted their positions slightly, preparing to intervene if necessary.

"I appeared with your memories, your voice, and your understanding of your own duty. But some of your decisions seem entirely incomprehensible to me."

"Which ones?" the First Harbinger asked.

"For example, your unwillingness to tell the princess what you truly think."

Capitano looked at him for a while. The question touched upon something he preferred to consider in private, and now he was forced to discuss it in the presence of several armed soldiers and you.

"My feelings toward Her Highness are none of your concern."

"Yet they form part of what I remember."

The stranger turned toward you again. He did so calmly enough, but the movement carried the familiar attentiveness with which the real Capitano usually addressed you during conversations.

"Forgive me, Your Highness. I understand that this conversation may be unpleasant for you. But I would like you to know that when I invited you to the conservatory, I genuinely wanted to spend the evening with you."

He paused briefly.

"And when I sent the flowers, I hoped you would like them."

The real Capitano took another step forward. His patience was gradually wearing thin, although his voice retained its usual restraint.

"Enough."

The double turned toward him.

"Do you disagree?"

"You are deliberately using information about me to gain Her Highness's trust."

"Perhaps. But are your own intentions really so different from mine?"

Capitano did not answer. He understood that the stranger was trying to force him to discuss his own feelings in front of others, and he had no intention of allowing that to influence the course of the operation.

The double slowly raised a hand and touched the edge of his helmet.

"You know I'm telling the truth. You have feelings for her that you prefer to conceal because you're afraid of placing her in an uncomfortable position."

The First Harbinger straightened.

"I respect Her Highness's right to decide for herself whose company she enjoys."

"And that is why you never ask whether she wants to spend time with you," the double replied. "I think you have become too accustomed to making decisions for both of you."

Capitano remained silent for several seconds. He could not entirely reject the observation, since he himself had repeatedly wondered how reasonable his habit of postponing personal conversations really was. However, these doubts were now being used by someone who had illegally entered the palace and deliberately exposed you to danger.

Footsteps sounded in the neighboring corridor. A report came through the communication device stating that all exits had been blocked and Pierro was ready to issue the order to detain the stranger.

The First Harbinger raised his hand, ordering the soldiers to remain in position. He did not want to provoke the stranger into any sudden action while he was standing close enough to you.

"You have no right to speak in my name," he said.

The double inclined his head slightly.

"Then tell her yourself."

Capitano fell silent.

You stood not far from two identically dressed men. Both possessed the same voice, knew the same events, and addressed you with familiar respect. However, the longer the conversation continued, the more noticeable the differences between them became.

The real Capitano tried to maintain a professional distance and clearly did not want to discuss his own feelings in the presence of a stranger. The other spoke about them with unexpected ease, as though all the doubts and concerns holding the First Harbinger back meant nothing to him.

The chapel was gradually growing cooler. One of the candles on the distant table had burned almost to its base, leaving a small patch of wax on the stone surface. Snow continued falling outside the windows, and the muffled orders of officers awaiting Capitano's decision could be heard in the corridors.

The stranger slowly turned toward you.

"Your Highness, I understand that you don't know whether you can trust me. And I will not demand an immediate decision from you."

He carefully extended his hand, leaving several steps between you. The metal plates of his glove reflected the light of the wall lamps, and even the small scratches looked exactly like the damage on the real Capitano's armor.

"But I would like an opportunity to explain why I am here. Please, allow me at least one conversation in which I am not regarded solely as a threat."

The First Harbinger intervened immediately. His voice sounded stricter than before, since the stranger had already attempted several times to reduce the distance between you.

"Step away from Her Highness."

The double did not withdraw his hand.

"I have no intention of harming her."

"You have already entered restricted areas, forged orders, and attempted to evade the guards. I have no grounds to trust your statements."

The stranger looked at the real Capitano. For a while, he remained silent, then carefully lowered his hand and folded his fingers in front of himself.

"You are right. I have violated the very rules you once established."

He lowered his head slightly.

"But I wanted to see her. And unlike you, I decided to take the opportunity."

The First Harbinger slowly exhaled. He was struggling to restrain himself from immediately ordering the arrest, but he understood that the stranger might possess abilities that would make such an attempt dangerous for the people in the chapel.

"Your desire does not give you the right to endanger her."

"I agree," the double replied. "And I am prepared to discuss any conditions if Her Highness wishes to continue the conversation."

Capitano turned toward you. His movement was restrained, but noticeable insistence entered his voice.

"Your Highness, you should move toward the door. My men will ensure your safety."

The stranger also looked at you. He apparently noticed that the real Capitano was finding it increasingly difficult to maintain his previous composure and decided to use the remaining opportunity for conversation.

"If you wish to leave, I will not prevent you," he said. "But before you decide, there is something I would like to show you."

He slowly raised both hands to the fastenings of his helmet.

The real Capitano immediately changed his position, placing himself between you and the stranger. The metal plates of his armor clinked quietly as he moved closer, and his hand returned to his sword.

"What are you going to do?"

"Remove my helmet," the double replied calmly. "I believe Her Highness has the right to see who she is speaking with."

The First Harbinger did not move. For many years, he had carefully concealed the consequences of the Khaenri'ahn curse, and even close Fatui associates had almost never seen him without his helmet. The stranger's very intention of showing you his face seemed to him a dangerous attempt to take advantage of something deeply personal.

You knew that he never removed his helmet in the presence of others. His true appearance remained hidden even from many high-ranking Fatui members, and Capitano himself very rarely allowed anyone to discuss the consequences of the Khaenri'ahn curse.

The double carefully undid the first fastening. His fingers moved confidently, as though he had performed the action many times before.

"Your Highness," he addressed you. "There is something I must warn you about."

Capitano placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Don't do this."

The stranger paid no attention to the warning.

"I truly remember his life. Almost all of it. But some memories, particularly the oldest ones, look different from how they should."

He released the second clasp. A quiet metallic click sounded in the chapel, clearly distinguishable even through the noise of the wind outside.

"In those memories, I can still see my face as it was before the fall of Khaenri'ah."

The real First Harbinger froze in place. For several seconds, he watched the double's movements, as though trying to understand just how far the stranger intended to go.

The double lowered his head slightly.

"And, as far as I understand, he himself has long since lost the ability to see it."

Pierro's voice came through the communication device, demanding that the conversation be stopped immediately and the stranger detained. Several guards appeared in the chapel doorway, awaiting Capitano's order.

The officers remained near the entrance, reluctant to approach without permission. Pierro repeated his order, and one of the soldiers cautiously took a step forward, checking whether the stranger had noticed the guards' appearance.

But the double was still standing before you, keeping his hands near the helmet's fastenings.

"I am not asking you to choose between us," he said, addressing you. "However, before they take me away, there is something I would like to ask."

He carefully released the final fastening but did not remove the helmet yet.

The real Capitano kept his attention fixed on him. He knew that anything might be concealed beneath the familiar visor: an exact copy of his own face, a stranger's appearance, or something created by an unknown influence of the Abyss. However, the double's statement about memories from before the fall of Khaenri'ah touched upon that part of the past which the First Harbinger almost never discussed, even with Pierro.

"If I truly possess his memories, his feelings, and everything he never dared to tell you..."

The stranger turned his head slightly toward the real Capitano. His voice remained calm, but the question was spoken with unexpected seriousness, as though the answer genuinely mattered to him.

"Why do you believe that my desire to be by your side is any less sincere than his?"

The House Where They Were Already Waiting for Us

---

The expedition into the northern underground ruins of Khaenri'ah was ordered by the Tsaritsa at the beginning of winter.

Several weeks earlier, a group of Fatui researchers had discovered the remains of an ancient tunnel system beneath a mountain range. Initially, it was assumed that the structures belonged to an abandoned military garrison, but after clearing one of the passages, the archaeologists found household items, old signs, and fragments of documents indicating the existence of an entire residential district. According to preliminary estimates, the settlement had been destroyed during the catastrophe that occurred five centuries ago. A significant portion of the structures had been buried beneath collapsed rock, while the remaining rooms had long been considered inaccessible. Now the researchers hoped to discover surviving archives, household objects, and evidence of the lives of the people who had inhabited these places before the fall of Khaenri'ah.

You joined the expedition as a representative of the Tsaritsa. Your responsibilities were to familiarize yourself with the research findings, assess the condition of the discovered historical sites, and decide which materials should be transferred to the palace archives. Since the underground ruins remained poorly explored, the First Harbinger was assigned to accompany the research group.

Capitano approached the assignment with his usual sense of responsibility. He personally studied the preliminary maps, coordinated the detachment's movements, and ordered additional equipment to be prepared for exploring the old tunnels. At the same time, the possibility of once again finding himself among the ruins of his homeland stirred feelings in him that he preferred not to discuss. Over five centuries, he had visited many ruined settlements of Khaenri'ah. Some he recognized by the arrangement of their streets or surviving architectural features, while others had changed so drastically that almost nothing remained to remind him of their former appearance. Capitano rarely spoke about such places unless necessary, but willingly assisted the researchers whenever his memories allowed him to establish the purpose of the discovered structures.

The First Harbinger maintained a longstanding and fairly warm relationship with you. You had met many times at the palace, spoken during official events, and occasionally spent time together after completing your duties. Capitano invariably maintained a respectful distance, although in recent months he had increasingly found reasons to linger beside you. He had long harbored feelings for you that went beyond ordinary affection, but he was in no hurry to speak of them. Your position at court demanded particular caution, and the First Harbinger himself was not accustomed to making such personal decisions hastily.

The opportunity to spend several days in your company was pleasant for him. However, he intended to concentrate on the expedition and not allow his own feelings to distract him from his responsibilities.

---

On the fourth day of the investigation, the detachment discovered a new passage. That morning, the engineers finished clearing a narrow tunnel that had been partially blocked by collapsed stone slabs. Beyond it lay a small underground street that had survived in considerably better condition than the other parts of the settlement.

You descended there with Capitano and several researchers closer to noon. It was cold underground. Moisture covered the stone walls, and you had to avoid sections of the floor strewn with small fragments of rubble. Portable lamps illuminated only the nearest few meters, leaving the far end of the street concealed in semi-darkness. Low buildings stood on either side of the passage. Some had preserved their doorways and portions of their facades, while others had lost their roofs. Traces of decorative paintings could still be distinguished on the walls, and a damaged stone bench stood near one of the houses.

"Judging by the layout, this really was a residential district," reported Renna, the leader of the research group, examining the notes in her folder. "Families of workers from the nearby workshops may have lived here."

"There were indeed workshops in this part of the settlement," Capitano confirmed, examining the surviving buildings. "Before the catastrophe, this district was quite lively."

Renna raised her head from her notes, interested in the possibility of obtaining information from someone who had personally known these places.

"Have you been here before, Lord Capitano?"

"Several times. Although much has changed since then," he replied, carefully moving a small fragment of a stone slab out of the way.

The researcher approached the nearest wall and ran her hand over the surviving symbols. In the lamplight, the remains of an old inscription became visible, which she attempted to compare with the notes in her folder.

"Interesting. It seems there was a street name here."

Capitano approached, carefully examined the inscription, and after a short pause, said:

"Coppersmiths' Street."

Renna immediately wrote down the name, glancing once more at the darkened symbols.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes. Several families of craftsmen who worked with metals lived here. Their products were used in neighboring settlements."

The First Harbinger looked at the darkened walls for some time. He remembered what this street had looked like before its destruction: narrow passages between houses, workshop signs, the noise of working machinery, and children returning home after their lessons. Now, only scattered objects and the remains of buildings survived from that former life.

Capitano asked the officers not to touch the damaged walls unnecessarily and continued walking beside you. Along the way, he spoke about several workshops whose owners he had once known personally. Approximately half an hour later, one of the engineers stopped near a small building at the end of the street.

"Lord Capitano, there's a door here," he reported, illuminating the wall with his lantern. "It seems the passage isn't blocked."

The house stood slightly apart from the other buildings. Its facade had survived almost completely, and a narrow stone canopy extended above the door. Fragments of a neighboring building lay near the threshold, but the dwelling itself looked remarkably intact. Capitano approached and noticed a small metal plaque engraved with the image of a star and a hammer. The First Harbinger recognized it immediately. He ran his fingers over the darkened metal, then stepped back slightly to examine the facade more closely.

"I know this house," he said, lingering noticeably beside the door.

Renna turned toward him with interest.

"Who did it belong to?"

"An old acquaintance of mine. His name was Halvard. He made measuring instruments and occasionally assisted military engineers."

Capitano looked at the small window beside the door. He needed some time to reconcile the surviving building with his memories of the house he had visited many centuries earlier.

"We were friends."

You noticed that he lingered near this house longer than he had near the other buildings.

"Did you visit often?" you asked.

"In my youth – quite often," Capitano replied. "Halvard enjoyed inviting acquaintances over for dinner, especially after finishing his work. His wife was always complaining that he brought guests home without warning her beforehand."

A barely perceptible warmth entered the First Harbinger's voice. He remembered how Halvard had once brought several comrades home at once, even though there had barely been enough chairs for everyone.

"Though she usually prepared more food than we could eat anyway."

Renna carefully examined the doorframe, checking the condition of the wood and metal fittings.

"The lock appears intact. Perhaps some personal belongings have survived inside."

Capitano nodded, stepping away from the entrance to make room for the engineer.

"Try opening it. Just don't damage the door unless necessary."

The engineer approached the lock and took out his tools. However, the moment he touched the metal handle, the door gave way. It was unlocked, although after five centuries underground, even a functioning mechanism should have deteriorated.

---

The first thing you noticed upon entering was the warmth. After the cold underground corridor, the air inside the house felt almost as pleasant as that of the palace's living quarters. Somewhere nearby, firewood crackled softly, and from deeper inside the house came the familiar domestic smell of cooked food.

There was a small entrance hall near the doorway. Several cloaks hung on the wall, boots stood beneath a wooden bench, and a neatly folded rug lay beside the door. A basket of gloves rested on a narrow shelf, with one glove hanging over the edge. Beyond the entrance hall was a living room. A warm rug covered the floor, a cupboard filled with dishes stood against the wall, and armchairs were arranged near a small fireplace. An open book lay on a table beside them, with someone's spectacles resting across its pages. A fire was burning in the fireplace, and the crackling of the logs was clearly audible in the silence, so unusual for an abandoned house.

Renna stopped on the threshold, looking around the room. The warmth, clean furniture, and functioning fireplace were completely inconsistent with the condition of the other buildings in the underground district.

"How is this possible?" she asked quietly, raising her lamp higher.

One of the researchers approached the hearth, then cautiously extended his hand toward the brickwork.

"It's real," the man reported. "The bricks are hot."

Renna quickly opened her folder, trying to find records concerning the condition of the ventilation shafts. However, the preliminary diagrams contained no information about a functioning heating system.

"This structure has been buried underground for approximately five hundred years. There shouldn't be any fuel or functioning ventilation left here."

Capitano passed through the entrance hall and stopped in the middle of the living room. He recognized the furnishings. The cupboard near the wall, the armchair beside the fireplace, the shelf containing small metal figurines – everything stood almost exactly where he remembered it from his youth. However, some things were different. In Capitano's memory, the table had stood closer to the window, and Halvard's armchair had been to the right of the fireplace. Now the furniture was arranged differently, as though the owners had rearranged the rooms several times over the intervening years.

"Lord Capitano?" Renna called cautiously, noticing his thoughtful expression. "Do you recognize these rooms?"

"Yes," he replied, approaching the fireplace. "Halvard lived here with his family. They had a small workshop in the neighboring room."

He stopped beside the open book, carefully examining its familiar binding. The last time Capitano had seen this house, almost the entire building had been buried beneath stones.

"But during the catastrophe, this district was destroyed. I witnessed the collapse with my own eyes."

Renna looked at him, trying to speak calmly, although what they had discovered was clearly beyond the limits of an ordinary archaeological investigation.

"Are you certain this is the same house?"

"Absolutely."

One of the engineers was already examining the doorways and checking the condition of the walls. Another carefully took a small metal mechanism from a shelf, but it unexpectedly began functioning in his hands. Startled, the man put the object back. Almost immediately, a soft knock came from the neighboring room, followed by the quiet creaking of wooden floorboards. The researchers all turned toward the doorway at once.

"Is someone there?" the engineer asked, directing his lamp toward the door.

There was no answer. Capitano approached the passage first, listening carefully for any sounds. He stood beside the wall for a while before cautiously taking hold of the door handle.

"Stay here. I'll check."

He opened the door and looked inside. Beyond it was a small kitchen. A pot of hot soup stood on the stove. Chopped vegetables lay beside a cutting board, several slices of bread and an open jar of jam sat on the table. Two cups stood beside a pitcher, while small bunches of herbs were drying on the windowsill.

Capitano cautiously approached the stove. The liquid in the pot was gently stirring. Steam rose from the soup, and a metal spoon lay nearby on a clean towel. Everything looked as though the mistress of the house had set aside the preparations for dinner only a few minutes earlier to attend to something in the next room.

"Someone was cooking here recently," one of the researchers remarked, looking over the First Harbinger's shoulder.

"Don't touch anything," Capitano ordered, stopping the man with a movement of his hand. "Until we establish the origin of these objects, we cannot rule out the influence of ancient mechanisms."

Renna agreed and asked her assistants to make detailed notes. Capitano examined the kitchen for some time. He remembered perfectly well how Halvard had sat at this table, discussing another unsuccessful experiment with him. He remembered how his friend's wife had brought tea to the guests and complained that her husband had once again ruined the tools he had promised to repair the previous week.

However, the memory of the hot soup seemed strangely fresh. Capitano could almost remember its taste. He slowly stepped away from the stove and looked at the set table. An image unexpectedly arose in his mind: he was sitting in the kitchen, removing his gloves, while someone beside him asked him not to place his heavy armor over the back of a chair because the wood had already cracked once before. The First Harbinger frowned beneath his helmet, trying to understand where the memory had come from. He had never visited this house wearing his current armor, since it had not even existed five hundred years ago.

---

The researchers continued inspecting the house. Renna discovered several documents in a small writing desk near the living room. Among them were old invoices, Halvard's personal notes, and letters written in the language of Khaenri'ah. Everything looked as though the owner had intended to return to work after dinner. An unfinished letter lay on the desk, the inkwell remained open, and beside it stood a cup filled with cold tea.

Capitano helped the researcher decipher several notes.

"This really is Halvard's handwriting," he confirmed, examining one of the pages. "He often wrote far too small. Even his own wife sometimes asked him to rewrite his notes."

Renna carefully turned the page, trying not to damage the yellowed paper.

"Some guests are mentioned here. Perhaps we'll be able to establish who visited the house during the last days before the catastrophe."

The First Harbinger agreed, but soon another entry caught his attention. It was in a small journal lying beside the window. The owner's name was written on the cover, and inside were records of purchases, family celebrations, and invited guests.

Renna began examining the pages, occasionally stopping at names that might be of historical value.

"Ordinary household records. Food purchases, furniture repairs, birthdays..." She turned several more pages. "Although there's something interesting here."

Capitano approached and bent slightly to see the writing more clearly.

"What exactly?"

"Your wedding is mentioned, Lord Capitano."

The First Harbinger stopped. For a moment, he thought he must have misheard the researcher, since of all the possible discoveries, this was among the last things he had expected.

"Mine?"

Renna raised her eyes from the journal, surprised by his reaction.

"At least, the name you were known by during your service in Khaenri'ah is written here. And it mentions that Halvard attended the ceremony."

Capitano took the journal. The page did indeed contain an entry concerning a wedding celebration. Halvard had listed the gifts, the expenses for the refreshments, and the names of several invited friends. The date belonged to a period long before the fall of Khaenri'ah, and Capitano remembered that year perfectly well. He had not married then.

"There's a mistake here," the First Harbinger said, carefully examining the names of the guests.

Renna frowned, trying to find some explanation for the discrepancy.

"Perhaps Halvard was recording information about someone else's wedding?"

"No. My name is written here," Capitano replied, returning the journal to the table. "But such a ceremony never took place."

The researcher carefully examined the neighboring pages.

"In that case, we need to check the other documents. Perhaps someone used your name."

Capitano nodded but continued looking at the journal. Deep within his memory, a strange sense of familiarity with the event appeared. He tried to remember where he had been on the date indicated, but instead of his usual memories of military service, he suddenly saw an illuminated room, several people gathered around a festive table, and a woman's voice saying something with a smile. The First Harbinger abruptly closed the journal, as though hoping that doing so would help rid him of the unwelcome memory.

"Continue the inspection," he ordered, handing the book to Renna. "I'll check the other rooms."

---

The living room was situated in the central part of the house. You returned there with Capitano while the researchers continued working in the kitchen and near the writing desk. The firewood was still burning in the fireplace, and several family photographs made using an old technique stood on a small shelf.

The First Harbinger stopped beside the cupboard, carefully examining the walls. He remembered some pieces of furniture perfectly, but now even the familiar arrangement of things seemed suspicious to him.

"When I used to visit, a portrait of Halvard's family hung on this wall," he explained, examining the room. "His wife was very proud of the artist's work. I believe they commissioned the painting for their wedding anniversary."

You looked at the empty section of wall.

"There's nothing here."

"Perhaps the portrait was moved," Capitano replied, examining the living room once more.

He approached a small corridor leading into a neighboring room. Several closed cupboards, an old chest, and a tall door stood there, behind which, judging by the layout, was a bedroom. Capitano carefully opened it and examined the room before allowing you to approach.

The room was small but cozy. A bed with a neatly arranged coverlet stood near the window. A lamp rested on the bedside table, and beside it lay two books, one of which was open approximately halfway through. Dark casual clothing hung over the back of a chair. Near the far wall stood a dressing table with a small mirror. A hairbrush, several hairpins, and a neatly folded fabric ribbon lay in front of it.

A large family portrait hung above the fireplace. Capitano stopped in the doorway, while you approached and saw the people depicted on the canvas. The man in the painting was tall, broad-shouldered, and dark-haired. He wore old ceremonial clothing from Khaenri'ah and stood beside a young woman, gently supporting her by the hand. He wore no helmet, and his face was uncovered.

You had never seen Capitano without his familiar visor. However, the man in the portrait had a familiar build, and certain features of his posture and manner of carrying himself bore a remarkable resemblance to the First Harbinger. Capitano approached the painting and stopped so close that he almost touched the frame, but did not extend his hand.

His face was depicted on the canvas – the very face he remembered from his youth, before the curse and the deterioration of his body. The artist had carefully captured the familiar features, a small old mark near his temple, and an expression that Capitano had not seen in his own reflection for many centuries.

You stood beside him in the painting. Without courtly jewelry or ceremonial insignia, wearing a light festive dress, your hand resting in the man's palm, and an expression on your face that the artist had clearly intended to capture as part of a family portrait.

The First Harbinger slowly turned toward you. Even through the helmet concealing his face, it was possible to notice that the discovery had disturbed his usual composure.

"Your Highness..." he began, but never finished the sentence, noticing a small metal plaque on the lower part of the frame. An inscription in the language of Khaenri'ah had survived on it, which Capitano read without difficulty. It listed the names of the spouses and the date the portrait had been created – several years before the catastrophe and several centuries before your birth. The First Harbinger carefully removed the plaque from its fastening and examined it more closely, checking every letter as though hoping to discover a mistake in what he had read.

"That is my name," he said after a long pause, still examining the ancient inscription.

You looked at the metal plaque, trying to distinguish the unfamiliar symbols.

"And the second?"

Capitano remained silent for some time. He already knew the answer, but saying it aloud proved considerably more difficult than reading it. The painting depicted two people who could not possibly have met at the indicated time, and the inscription left no doubt about whom the artist believed them to be to each other.

"Yours."

Footsteps sounded in the corridor as Renna returned from the neighboring room with several documents in her hands.

"Lord Capitano? We've found several more..." The researcher stopped when she saw the portrait, and her voice gradually faded. "What is this?"

Capitano turned toward her, making room beside the painting.

"Look at the portrait."

Renna approached, raised her lamp, and carefully examined the canvas. For some time, she remained silent, shifting her gaze between the painting, you, and the First Harbinger. Then she moved closer to the frame to examine the surviving inscriptions.

"But that's impossible," she finally said.

"That is precisely why I need to establish the portrait's origin," Capitano replied, trying to return the conversation to the investigation.

The researcher approached the frame. She carefully checked the condition of the wood, then examined the edge of the canvas, where traces of old varnish remained.

"The paint looks old. And so does the wood. At least, there are no obvious signs of recent work here."

She carefully touched the edge of the painting, trying not to damage its surface.

"I'll need additional equipment to examine the materials. But if the date really is correct..."

Renna did not finish her thought. Capitano looked at the painting again. His own face seemed far too familiar. Yet what disturbed him even more was how naturally he stood beside you in the portrait. The artist had depicted them close enough that there was almost no room for doubt about the nature of their relationship.

The First Harbinger did not remember any such portrait. And yet, somewhere among his memories, a vague image appeared of a festive evening when someone had asked him to turn his head slightly because the artist was having difficulty working from the previous angle. Capitano carefully rested his palm on the edge of the mantelpiece, trying to understand where this memory had come from. He remembered a conversation with perfect clarity, although it had never happened.

---

After the discovery of the portrait, Renna suggested stopping the investigation immediately and returning to the main camp. Capitano agreed, but first ordered a brief inspection of the rooms to make certain that all members of the expedition were nearby.

The engineers headed toward the entrance to check the condition of the tunnel. Renna and her assistant continued examining the documents, trying not to move anything unnecessarily. You remained in the living room beside the First Harbinger.

The house was still warm. Firewood crackled softly in the kitchen, and the quiet ticking of a clock came from the neighboring room. After the discovery of the portrait, these ordinary household sounds began to feel different: everything here continued functioning, although the owners should have died or abandoned the house five centuries ago.

Capitano approached the window and carefully drew the curtain aside. Beyond the glass, the underground street was visible, illuminated by the researchers' portable lanterns. The stone walls of the neighboring buildings remained in their usual places, and one of the soldiers stood guard near the entrance. The First Harbinger remained silent for a moment before turning toward you.

"My apologies, Your Highness. I believe today's expedition has turned out to be considerably less pleasant than we expected."

You looked at him.

"You really have never been married, have you?"

"No," Capitano replied, without taking his gaze from the window. "At least, I don't remember anything of the sort."

He slowly released the curtain and turned toward you.

"I remember the final years before the fall of Khaenri'ah quite well. My service occupied most of my time, and although I had close friends, I was not married."

The First Harbinger fell silent for a while, trying to find an explanation for what he was experiencing. Usually, his memories of the past were fairly clear, even if some details had gradually faded over five centuries.

"However, I'm now beginning to remember events that contradict everything I know about my own life."

You could notice how carefully he chose his words. Usually, Capitano possessed an excellent memory and rarely doubted his own testimony. Now, however, he was forced to discuss memories whose existence he could not explain.

"For example?" you asked.

"When we entered the kitchen, I remembered a conversation about a damaged chair. Then I felt as though I had already seen that portrait while it was being painted."

Capitano lowered his head slightly, trying to mentally reconstruct another scene that had appeared unexpectedly.

"I also remember returning here late one evening. It was raining outside, and I left my wet cloak near the entrance. Someone was waiting for me in the kitchen."

He carefully ran his fingers over the fastening of his glove.

"In these memories, you are beside me."

For some time, the First Harbinger did not move. He looked at the old furniture, clearly recognizing details of events that could not have taken place in his life.

"But I know that none of this happened. You were born centuries after those events."

The sound of a falling object came from the neighboring room, making Capitano immediately turn toward the door. However, a few seconds later, Renna's voice could be heard explaining that one of her assistants had accidentally dropped a small metal tool. The First Harbinger listened to the explanation and turned toward you again.

"I believe we should not remain in this house. Until we understand the nature of what is happening, any new information must be treated with caution."

You could notice that he was still thinking about the portrait. Capitano repeatedly glanced toward the corridor leading to the bedroom, as though trying to remember something important connected with that room. However, each time, he forced himself to return his attention to discussing the expedition's next steps.

---

The problems began when the engineers attempted to open the front door. One of them returned to the living room looking visibly alarmed. The man held a measuring instrument in his hands which, judging by his expression, had stopped displaying its usual readings.

"Lord Capitano, we need your help," the man reported, removing his protective goggles. "It seems the passage has changed."

Capitano turned toward him.

"What exactly happened?"

"The street is no longer behind the door."

Renna raised her head from the documents, clearly not immediately understanding what he meant.

"What do you mean?"

"I opened the door to check the condition of the tunnel. But there was a corridor behind it. An interior corridor. With doors on both sides."

Capitano immediately headed toward the entrance hall, and you followed him along with the researchers. The front door remained open, but beyond it really was a narrow corridor that had not existed before.

The walls were covered with pale wallpaper. A narrow wooden shelf stretched along one of them, and several small lamps burned on the ceiling. A carpet with a geometric pattern covered the floor, looking considerably newer than the furniture in the other rooms.

Capitano approached the threshold and carefully examined the doorframe. He checked the hinges, the position of the wall, and even the threshold itself, as though trying to make certain that the engineers had not mistaken the exit for another door.

"Are you certain you opened this exact door?" he asked.

"Yes, Lord Capitano," the engineer replied. "We didn't go anywhere."

Renna cautiously looked into the corridor, comparing what she saw with the building's floor plan.

"That's impossible. According to our measurements, the street should be on the other side of this wall."

Capitano took a portable lamp and walked several steps forward. The corridor extended for approximately ten meters. At its end was a staircase leading upward, although the house had only one floor when viewed from outside.

The First Harbinger stopped near the staircase. He recognized the carpet lying on the floor. A memory arose of how he had helped lay it down after moving into the house. Someone had asked him to move a heavy cupboard so that the fabric would not bunch up in folds, then offered him tea. Capitano remembered agreeing and how you had thanked him for his help.

He slowly lowered the lamp, realizing that yet another memory had appeared without any basis. The corridor had not existed only a few minutes earlier, but now he could describe the arrangement of the rooms behind the closed doors as though he had visited them many times before.

"Back," the First Harbinger said, addressing the researchers. "Everyone return to the living room."

No one argued. Once the last member of the expedition had crossed the threshold, Capitano closed the door, waited several seconds, and opened it again.

The familiar underground street was behind it. Portable lanterns were visible in the distance, and a soldier waiting for the researchers' return stood beside a neighboring building. The stone walls looked exactly as they had before the strange corridor appeared.

The engineer exhaled in relief.

"Thank the Tsaritsa. I was beginning to think we..."

He fell silent when he noticed Renna's expression. The researcher was looking at the open door, then at her own measuring instrument, whose readings had changed noticeably over the last few minutes.

"Lord Capitano, the time."

The First Harbinger turned toward her.

"What about it?"

"We entered the house approximately forty minutes ago," Renna replied, showing him the instrument. "However, according to the device's records, almost four hours have passed."

Capitano looked at his own watch. It displayed a different time, matching neither the researcher's readings nor the main camp's records, which the engineer had received before entering the house.

---

While the researchers checked their equipment, Capitano ordered part of the group to return to camp. He did not want to expose the people to any further influence from the unknown phenomenon, especially after the ordinary arrangement of the rooms had ceased to correspond to reality.

Two engineers left first. They were followed by one of Renna's assistants, who had been instructed to deliver a preliminary report to the command. You and the First Harbinger remained in the house with the researcher and one other employee to collect the documents and prepare the remaining materials for evacuation.

The living room had now become noticeably quieter. Warmth still came from the fireplace, but the logs, which should have burned down long ago, had barely changed. The clock on the wall continued ticking, although its hands occasionally moved backward.

Capitano watched what was happening carefully. He was beginning to understand that the house was somehow affecting memory and the perception of time. However, what troubled him most was that the new memories appeared with exactly the same clarity as his real ones.

The First Harbinger remembered his years of service in Khaenri'ah, the catastrophe, and the centuries that followed. But now, among those events, evenings spent in a small house with you were beginning to appear. Sometimes the memories concerned entirely ordinary things. He seemed to remember choosing new curtains for the living room, although he had never previously taken an interest in such purchases. He remembered breaking the handle of a kitchen cupboard once and promising for several days to repair it. He remembered how the two of you had entertained guests together while Halvard told another story about his own unsuccessful inventions.

These memories were astonishingly detailed. That was precisely what troubled him most. Capitano could not determine which of them had appeared a few minutes earlier and which might have existed in his memory for much longer, remaining unnoticed.

---

Renna discovered some letters in a small drawer of the writing desk. They were tied together with a thin ribbon and carefully arranged by date. Some envelopes had yellowed, while others looked almost new. Each bore an address written in the language of Khaenri'ah.

The researcher carefully unfolded the top letter, first making certain that the paper would not crumble at her touch.

"Lord Capitano, it seems this is your correspondence."

The First Harbinger approached and glanced at the envelope. His name was indeed written on it, and the letter itself was written in the familiar handwriting of Halvard. Capitano carefully unfolded the sheet and began reading.

"Dear friend,

I hope your service will finally allow you to spend a few peaceful days at home. My wife and I are planning to host a small dinner at the end of the week, and I expect that both of you will be able to attend.

Tell your wife that she still owes me an explanation regarding that incident with the festive pie. I refuse to accept the claim that she convinced all the guests the recipe belonged to me entirely by accident.

By the way, I've finished repairing the clock. If it starts running slow again, I promise I won't attempt to fix it myself anymore."

Capitano finished reading the letter and slowly lowered the page. He remembered the feeling of mild irritation he had experienced upon receiving it. He remembered intending to reply to Halvard that the clock really should have been taken to a proper craftsman. He even remembered how you had once smiled upon hearing yet another promise from his friend never to attempt repairs himself again.

But none of those events had ever happened. The First Harbinger carefully folded the letter and returned it to its envelope, trying to concentrate on the familiar handwriting and the condition of the paper rather than the utterly impossible memories.

"Renna, please check the dates on the other documents."

The researcher began examining the letters. Some dated back to the final years of Khaenri'ah's existence, while others bore considerably later dates. One envelope lying at the very bottom of the stack contained a date that had not yet arrived.

Renna raised her head from the document, clearly unable to believe her own eyes.

"Lord Capitano, tomorrow's date is written here."

Capitano took the letter and carefully examined the envelope. Your name was written on it, and the handwriting belonged to him. The First Harbinger recognized the characteristic features of his own letters, including his habit of slightly changing the slant of his lines toward the end of a page. He looked at the envelope for some time before carefully extending it toward you.

"I believe this is addressed to you, Your Highness."

You accepted the letter. There was no seal on the paper. The envelope had been closed in the ordinary manner, as though the sender intended to deliver it personally. Inside was a small sheet covered in neat handwriting.

"I have spent a long time thinking about our conversation today. I should have told you sooner how much the opportunity to spend time beside you means to me.

I do not know what you will decide tomorrow. However, I want you to understand that neither choice will make me regard you with any less respect.

If we truly manage to return home, I would like to speak with you again. Without witnesses, without official duties, and without the constant need to consider the circumstances of our positions.

I think I have postponed this conversation for far too long."

Capitano's signature appeared beneath the letter. You raised your eyes toward the First Harbinger, who stood nearby, attentively awaiting your reaction. He clearly did not know the contents of the letter, although the handwriting and signature belonged to him.

"Is this yours?" you asked.

Capitano carefully took the sheet and read it. For several seconds, he remained silent, examining the lines that seemed strangely familiar. He did not remember ever writing such a letter, but he could not deny that some of those thoughts had indeed occurred to him before.

"I have never written this letter," he finally said, pausing over the last sentence. "However..."

The First Harbinger slowly lowered the page. He did not want to discuss his own feelings in the presence of the researchers, but it would have been a lie to dismiss the contents of the letter as something entirely foreign to him.

"I truly intended to tell you something similar."

The ticking of the clock could be heard in the room. Capitano examined his own signature for some time before carefully returning the letter to you.

"Please do not regard these words as a promise of the future. We still do not know how such documents are appearing here."

He paused briefly before adding more calmly:

"And I would not want this house to make any decisions for us."

---

Renna suggested leaving the house immediately. Capitano agreed and ordered them to collect only the most necessary documents. The remaining discoveries were to be left until the researchers had prepared a safe method for further examination.

However, when one of the assistants headed toward the exit, a woman's laughter came from the neighboring room. Everyone stopped, listening to the unexpected sound. The laughter was quiet and entirely natural, as though someone had heard an amusing remark during an ordinary family conversation.

Then a man's voice was heard.

"I warned you she would certainly remember that."

Capitano recognized Halvard's voice. He had not heard it for five hundred years, but the familiar intonation had remained so clear in his memory that it was impossible to mistake it. The researcher looked toward the First Harbinger, noticing his reaction.

"Who is that?"

Capitano cautiously placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. He understood that he was hearing the voice of a man who had died many centuries ago, but he could not determine whether the sound came from a real speaker or some unknown mechanism within the house.

"The owner of the house."

A quiet clatter of dishes came from the kitchen. Then Halvard's voice sounded again, now somewhat closer, as though the man were standing directly behind the door.

"If you two are going to stand in the corridor, dinner will get cold. Come along while everything's hot."

Capitano did not answer. He remembered his friend well, his voice, and his habit of speaking loudly to guests from the neighboring room. He remembered how Halvard constantly worried that there would not be enough prepared food. However, Halvard had died during the catastrophe, and the First Harbinger knew that for certain. He had seen the destroyed house with his own eyes and had participated in the search for survivors.

Capitano slowly turned toward the researchers, trying not to show how deeply what he had heard affected him.

"No one responds to the voices. Everyone stays together."

Renna immediately gathered the documents and headed toward the entrance hall. Capitano accompanied you toward the exit, trying to remain close enough to help you cross the damaged section of the floor if necessary.

But before you could reach the door, another voice sounded inside the house. This time, it was a woman's.

"You forgot to close the bedroom window again. I've already asked you twice."

Capitano stopped, recognizing the intonation. At the same time, a memory arose in his mind of you saying those very words while standing beside an open window. The memory was so detailed that the First Harbinger remembered the cold air entering the room and how he had been about to apologize for his forgetfulness.

He slowly turned toward the bedroom door. It was open, a lamp burned inside, and his cloak hung over the back of a chair – the very same cloak that was currently resting on his shoulders. Capitano examined the garment for some time, trying to understand how two completely identical objects could exist in different places simultaneously.

---

Capitano cautiously approached the bedroom. Renna attempted to stop him, but the First Harbinger explained that it was necessary to check whether any members of the expedition were inside. You followed him.

Almost nothing in the room had changed. The bed remained neatly made, books lay on the bedside table, and a small armchair stood near the window. However, two glasses of water now stood on the dressing table, and a heavy glove lay beside the bed.

Capitano recognized it. He wore one just like it. The First Harbinger picked up the object and carefully examined its fastenings. On the inner side of the glove was a small mark left after one of his battles several years earlier. Capitano remembered perfectly well when he had received that damage, so he slowly placed the object back, trying not to disturb the arrangement of things.

"Your Highness," he said without turning around. "I would like to ask you not to approach the bed for the moment."

You stopped near the doorway. The First Harbinger carefully examined the room. A pair of shoes belonging to a man with his foot size stood beside the wardrobe, and clothes he had never seen before hung over the back of the neighboring chair.

However, he suddenly remembered choosing them. He remembered the conversation with the shopkeeper, trying them on, and his own irritation over the collar being too tight. Capitano slowly lowered himself onto one knee beside a small chest, on whose lid was a familiar scratch. He remembered accidentally leaving it there while moving furniture.

The First Harbinger cautiously touched the damaged surface. Another scene appeared in his memory: you were sitting beside the window, sorting through some papers. He approached you, placed a small cup on the table, and asked whether you were finally going to get some rest. You answered something he could no longer remember, then extended your hand, and he gently touched your fingers.

The memory ended as unexpectedly as it had appeared. Capitano abruptly straightened and stood motionless for several seconds, trying to separate his own memories from those that had probably arisen under the house's influence.

"Capitano?" you called, noticing that he had remained still for too long.

The First Harbinger turned toward you. Even now, he tried to speak with his usual composure, although new memories continued appearing in his mind.

"I'm all right," he replied, although there was tension in his voice. "But we need to leave. As quickly as possible."

He headed toward the exit, first making certain that you were following him. Renna was already waiting in the corridor. The researcher stood near the entrance hall and looked considerably more alarmed than she had several minutes earlier.

"Lord Capitano, I think we have a new problem."

The First Harbinger stopped, noticing that she was looking toward the wall beside the kitchen.

"What happened?"

The researcher pointed toward the staircase near the entrance hall. It had appeared again, but this time it was inside the house itself, between the living room and the kitchen, where a small cupboard had previously stood. The steps led to a second floor that had never existed in the building.

Footsteps came from above, quiet and unhurried, as though someone were moving between rooms while attending to ordinary household tasks.

---

Capitano ordered everyone to remain near the exit. He approached the staircase and carefully examined the first steps. The wood looked sturdy, and the handrail showed signs of frequent use. Small family drawings made by a child's hand hung on the wall.

One of them depicted a tall man in dark clothing. A woman stood beside him, and between them was a small child. The drawing was signed in uneven letters in the language of Khaenri'ah.

Capitano read the inscription and remained silent for several seconds. He recognized certain peculiarities of the letters, as though he had seen similar childish handwriting before, although he had absolutely no idea where that familiarity could have come from.

Renna approached the staircase, trying to examine the image the First Harbinger was holding.

"What does it say?"

The First Harbinger carefully removed the drawing from the wall so that the researcher could see the inscription.

"Our family," he replied.

The researcher examined the picture, noticing the resemblance between the drawn man and Capitano.

"But that's..."

"I understand," Capitano interrupted, returning the sheet to its place.

He did not explain how familiar the drawing seemed to him. A memory had already appeared in his mind of a little girl sitting at a table and carefully forming letters. He remembered how she had asked him to show her how to draw hands, and how long she had laughed at his unsuccessful attempt to depict his own gloves.

Capitano did not know this girl and had never seen her. Yet now, he could remember her voice with the same clarity with which he remembered the voices of his own comrades who had died many centuries ago.

The First Harbinger carefully turned toward you. He understood that he needed to warn you about what was happening before the new memories began influencing his decisions.

"Your Highness, listen to me carefully."

He spoke calmly, but noticeably more seriously than before. Capitano tried to explain the situation so that you would understand the possible danger without feeling the need to make any immediate decisions.

"I'm beginning to remember people and events that have never existed in my life. Some of the memories are so detailed that it's difficult for me to immediately determine where they came from."

Capitano paused briefly, glancing at the drawing again.

"If this house is indeed connected to a distortion of time, perhaps we're witnessing the consequences of something that has not yet happened. Or something that could have happened under different circumstances."

He looked at the drawing, trying to reconcile it with the images appearing in his memory.

"But I don't know how much we can trust this information."

You could notice him carefully adjusting his glove, although the fastening was perfectly intact. Usually, such a movement accompanied his thoughts, but now the First Harbinger was clearly trying to concentrate on the present.

"I would not want these memories to influence your decisions," he continued. "Especially if they concern both of us."

A quiet creaking of the floor came from the upper level, followed by a child's voice.

"Daddy?"

Capitano sharply turned his head. The voice had sounded very close, as though someone had stopped near the upper landing of the staircase. It was astonishingly familiar, although the First Harbinger had never heard it in reality.

Someone approached the staircase upstairs. Renna stepped back toward the entrance hall, while her assistant hurriedly checked whether the front door would open. The underground street was still beyond it, but the expedition's lanterns were now barely visible in the distance.

The First Harbinger slowly raised his hand, signaling for everyone to remain calm. He did not approach the staircase, unwilling to frighten a possible child, but remained close enough to intervene in case of danger.

A little girl appeared on the upper landing. She looked no older than six or seven. She wore a simple house dress with a warm knitted cardigan over it. In one hand, the child held a small wooden toy, while the other rested on the railing.

The girl looked at Capitano, then shifted her gaze toward you. Her expression gradually changed. She looked confused, as though she had not expected to find so many unfamiliar people inside her own home.

"Why did you take so long?" she asked, cautiously descending one step. "I've been waiting for you."

Capitano did not move. Unfamiliar memories appeared in his mind again: a small table, a child's laughter, mittens still wet from a walk, and a request to read one more chapter before bedtime. He remembered how this little girl had once fallen asleep in his arms, how he had carefully carried her to her bedroom, trying not to wake her. But he had never had a daughter.

The child took another step down, continuing to look at the tall man at the foot of the stairs.

"Daddy, you promised you'd come home earlier," she said, noticing his stillness.

Capitano slowly lowered his head. He did not want to frighten the girl, but he could not answer an address that contradicted his entire life.

"What is your name?" he asked after a short pause.

The girl looked at him in surprise, clearly not understanding why her father was asking her such a question.

"Did you forget?"

Genuine hurt entered her voice. Capitano did not answer, since any explanation might be completely incomprehensible to the child. The girl examined him for a while, then cautiously shifted her gaze toward you.

"Mommy, why is Daddy wearing his armor again?"

No one at the bottom of the staircase said a word. Renna gripped her folder of documents more tightly, while her assistant continued standing near the open front door, clearly hesitant to interfere.

The girl frowned slightly, as though trying to understand why you were behaving so strangely.

"You promised we would have dinner together tonight."

Capitano carefully turned toward you. Even now, he maintained his usual restraint, but his voice sounded somewhat different. An uncertain tension had entered it, something he rarely allowed himself to show in front of others.

"Your Highness," he said quietly. "I don't know who this child is."

He looked at the little girl still standing on the staircase and, for a moment, felt an entirely unfamiliar desire to approach her, take her hand, and make certain she would not fall down the steps. The feeling was so natural that the First Harbinger had difficulty forcing himself to remain where he was.

"But I remember when she was born."

Meanwhile, the child cautiously descended several more steps, hugging the wooden toy more tightly to her chest.

"Mommy?" she called again, now considerably more quietly.

Capitano remained beside you. He made no attempt to approach the girl, although he was clearly troubled by the fact that she stood on the staircase without an adult accompanying her.

Halvard's familiar voice came from the kitchen, sounding casual and cheerful, as though the house really were gathering guests for an ordinary family dinner.

"Well, finally, everyone's here! Come have dinner before the food gets cold."

The little girl turned toward the voice, then looked at you again. She pressed the toy a little closer to her chest, clearly waiting for an answer that would help her understand her parents' strange behavior.

"You do remember me, don't you?" she asked with such sincere hope that Capitano involuntarily lowered his gaze to the toy in her hands.

The First Harbinger carefully extended his hand toward you, offering to remain beside him while he tried to understand what was happening. He still did not know what exactly this house was, but he could no longer deny how strongly the new memories were affecting him.

"Your Highness..." He paused briefly, watching the child attentively. "Please, tell me if you're beginning to remember anything, too."

His Excellency’s Service Dog

---

There were numerous rules in the Zapolyarny Palace, the observance of which was considered mandatory even for the highest-ranking members of the Fatui. Some concerned the procedures for conducting official meetings, others regulated access to state archives, and still others defined the responsibilities of the palace guards. Most of these rules had remained unchanged for decades, but from time to time, events occurred that forced the administration to reconsider its usual security measures.

The latest incident occurred at the beginning of winter, when an unknown man disguised as an employee of the postal office managed to pass through the service wing and reach one of the restricted administrative corridors. The intruder was detained before he could gain access to classified documents, but the very fact of the intrusion caused considerable displeasure on Pierro's part. After several meetings, it was decided to reconsider the placement of guard posts, inspect the old service passages, and increase patrols in those areas of the palace that courtiers rarely used.

Among the proposed measures was the creation of an additional canine unit. Specially trained dogs were supposed to help the guards detect unauthorized individuals, inspect cargo areas, and accompany patrols at night. Such animals were already used in certain military divisions of the Fatui, so organizing their training directly at the palace seemed an entirely reasonable decision.

Capitano was entrusted with supervising the project. The First Harbinger accepted the assignment with complete composure. Over his many years of service, he had been responsible for cavalry training, supply organization, recruit instruction, and numerous other matters that had no direct connection to combat. Working with canine handlers did not seem particularly unusual to him. He studied the proposed program, requested information about the animals, and ordered a personal inspection of the kennel where the future palace dogs were undergoing training.

Hardly anyone present at the meeting could have imagined that this particular decision would have such a noticeable influence on the First Harbinger's everyday life over the following weeks.

---

You learned about the upcoming inspection of the kennel entirely by chance. That day, Capitano was at the Zapolyarny Palace and, after the morning meeting, was preparing to leave for the training grounds located beyond the eastern wall. You met near the main staircase as you were returning from the administrative wing, while he was reviewing a short list of orders handed to him by one of his officers.

You had long maintained a good relationship with Capitano. Despite his imposing appearance and rather strict manner of speaking, the First Harbinger usually displayed exceptional patience around you. He willingly answered your questions, occasionally told you about his expeditions, and never refused to help if your request did not conflict with his official duties.

In recent months, Capitano had begun to notice that his feelings toward you were no longer limited to ordinary affection. He enjoyed your company, remembered small details of your conversations, and experienced unexpected pleasure whenever you approached him at the palace of your own accord. However, such feelings remained entirely his personal affair. Capitano did not want to place you in an awkward position, so he continued addressing you with his customary respect, although he sometimes caught himself wishing to linger beside you a little longer.

"Good morning, Captain," you greeted him, noticing the familiar figure near the staircase. "Do you have meetings again today?"

"Good morning, Your Highness," he replied, setting his documents aside and respectfully inclining his head. "The main meetings have already concluded. I am now preparing to inspect the training of the new canine unit."

"Canine unit?" you repeated with interest. "Are we going to have service dogs?"

"Precisely. After the recent incident, the administration considered it necessary to strengthen security in certain areas of the palace. Trained animals will be able to assist patrols in inspecting rooms and detecting intruders," the First Harbinger explained, adjusting the strap on his glove.

You asked whether you could visit the kennel with him. Capitano considered the matter briefly, assessing the safety of the training grounds and the possible inconvenience to the staff, but eventually agreed. He ordered a carriage to be prepared and instructed that the head of the canine service be informed of your presence.

Approximately half an hour later, you arrived at a small complex of buildings not far from the palace stables. Near the entrance was a fenced training area, beyond which stood several wooden buildings with wide windows. A path cleared of snow ran along the fence, and a sled loaded with food and household supplies stood near the service entrance. Quiet barking could be heard from one of the buildings, accompanied by the voices of the instructors.

You were greeted by a middle-aged woman named Marya, who supervised the animals' training. She wore a thick winter jacket, warm boots, and woolen gloves bearing small marks left by dogs' claws.

"Lord Capitano, Your Highness," she greeted you, respectfully inclining her head. "We have prepared the animals for inspection. If you wish, I can show you the training grounds first."

"Certainly," Capitano replied. "I would like to familiarize myself with the current results of their training."

Marya led you toward the fence, where several handlers were already waiting with their dogs. The animals looked strong and well cared for. Most sat calmly beside their handlers, attentively following their movements. During the demonstration exercises, they obeyed commands, found hidden objects, and completed a small obstacle course.

Capitano observed the instructors' work with his usual seriousness. He asked questions about the duration of training sessions, the animals' health, and the methods used to maintain their skills. Marya answered thoroughly, occasionally inviting one of the employees to demonstrate a particular exercise again.

After the demonstration, the supervisor suggested inspecting the kennel's living quarters. It was considerably warmer inside than outdoors. The corridors smelled of clean straw, wood, and animal feed, while quiet whining and the clicking of claws against the floor could be heard behind the doors of individual rooms. Near the entrance were shelves holding leashes, towels, and brushes, which the staff were carefully arranging after the morning cleaning.

Marya showed you several rooms, explained the veterinary supervision, and described how the animals were selected for different service tasks. Capitano carefully examined the conditions in which they were kept, occasionally asking whether the dogs were given sufficient rest between training sessions.

As you passed a small utility room, a thin, slightly offended whimper came from behind its half-open door. You stopped to listen.

"Is someone in there?" you asked, turning toward Marya.

The woman glanced at the door and smiled with a certain weariness.

"Ah, that's our Bublik. He's probably trying to get out of his basket again."

The name seemed unusual enough to interest you, and Marya, noticing this, opened the door wider. Inside the small room stood several baskets filled with clean towels, a cabinet containing household supplies, and a low wooden bench. A soft blanket lay on the floor, with a small bowl of water beside it.

A puppy was sitting in the middle of a basket filled with towels. He was very small, with thick cream-colored fur, a round little muzzle, and two dark ears, one of which stubbornly stood upright while the other drooped slightly to the side. His large paws seemed disproportionate to his body, and his short, fluffy tail began moving constantly as soon as he noticed the visitors.

For several seconds, the little one studied you attentively before attempting to climb out of the basket. His front paws caught on the edge of a towel, the fabric followed him, and the puppy clumsily slid onto the floor along with it.

Marya sighed in her usual manner.

"You see? That's exactly why we moved him away from the service group."

You crouched beside the puppy, extending your hand so that he could sniff it. Bublik immediately became interested in the unfamiliar hand, cautiously touched it with his nose, and then began licking your fingers while simultaneously trying to climb closer to you.

"He's so little," you remarked with a smile, gently stroking him behind the ear.

The puppy apparently considered the affection sufficient reason for a closer acquaintance. He placed his front paws on your knees, attempted to reach the edge of your scarf, and, failing to do so, began wagging his entire body with great enthusiasm.

Capitano stood nearby, observing what was happening. From the animal's size, he immediately determined that the puppy was too young for full service, and judging by his behavior, he still had to learn even the most basic commands.

"Is he undergoing training?" the First Harbinger asked.

"We tried," Marya replied with an expression suggesting that the memory of those attempts caused her a certain amount of exhaustion. "But without much success so far."

"What seems to be the problem?"

"He simply cannot concentrate. If you tell him to sit, he will sit, but first he absolutely has to come over and lick your hand. If you ask him to bring something, he'll bring it, but then decide that it's an invitation to play. And if someone unfamiliar happens to be nearby, he'll completely forget why he was called in the first place."

As if to confirm her words, Bublik abandoned your hand and attempted to climb onto your arm with his front paws, as though he wanted to make himself more comfortable.

"Besides, he's very affectionate," Marya continued. "For a family dog, that's wonderful, but for security work, we need animals with different qualities."

Capitano examined the puppy attentively.

"How does he behave when confronted with intruders?"

Marya remained silent for a moment, clearly searching for an appropriate way to phrase her answer.

"Yesterday, one of our instructors was pretending to be an intruder. Bublik approached him, sat down, and asked for a belly rub."

Capitano paused briefly.

"I assume the arrest did not take place."

"No, Lord Capitano. The intruder successfully left the training grounds after scratching him behind the ear."

You smiled, continuing to pet the little one, who had meanwhile stretched out on his side and offered you his belly. Bublik looked entirely satisfied with the circumstances and apparently had no idea that his future was being discussed at that very moment.

"What will happen to him?" you asked.

"We'll try to find him a suitable family," Marya explained. "He's healthy, eats well, has received his age-appropriate vaccinations, and becomes very attached to people. I think he'll make a wonderful house dog. It's just that everyone interested so far prefers older puppies."

You carefully picked Bublik up, first making certain that he did not mind. He immediately settled against your chest, buried his nose in your scarf, and began curiously examining its soft fabric.

Capitano watched you. It was pleasant for him to see the natural tenderness with which you treated the animal. You weren't afraid of getting your clothes dirty, calmly supported his clumsy paws, and smiled whenever the puppy tried to lick your chin. The First Harbinger involuntarily lingered on your face with his gaze before forcing himself to return to the official conversation.

"I assume he'll require temporary accommodation until a family is found," he remarked, addressing Marya.

"Yes. Unfortunately, we have almost no available space left here. Another four dogs are scheduled to arrive for training in a few days."

You offered to help find Bublik a good home. Marya thanked you but pointed out that even if interested families were found, checking the prospective owners would require some time.

Capitano considered the situation. Leaving the puppy in an overcrowded kennel was indeed unreasonable, while the palace had available rooms and people capable of providing the animal with proper care.

"Until the question of a new owner is settled, he can be temporarily accommodated in the administrative building," the First Harbinger said. "I will arrange for a room to be assigned and proper conditions to be provided."

Marya brightened noticeably.

"That would be a great help, Lord Capitano. Just keep in mind that he doesn't tolerate being alone very well."

"We will arrange regular supervision."

The puppy, who had been lying peacefully in your arms until then, suddenly raised his head and gave a quiet bark, as though he considered the conversation directly related to his interests. Capitano inclined his head slightly.

"I assume he has no objections."

---

Two hours later, Bublik officially arrived at the Zapolyarny Palace. A small room beside Capitano's office had been prepared for his temporary accommodation. A soft dog bed, bowls, several safe toys, and bedding were brought there. One of the canine service employees was supposed to visit several times a day, supervise feeding, and help with walks.

The First Harbinger personally inspected the conditions, familiarized himself with Marya's recommendations, and ordered the removal of any objects that might accidentally injure the puppy. Everything was organized with the same thoroughness that Capitano usually applied to the preparation of military units.

However, on the very first evening, it became clear that Bublik had his own opinion about the proposed accommodation. At first, he calmly explored the new room, sniffed the bed, and entertained himself with a soft toy for several minutes. Then he discovered that Capitano was behind the neighboring door, reviewing the evening reports.

The puppy sat beside the door. Waited. And then began whining.

The officer on duty tried to distract him with a toy. Bublik gladly accepted the gift, played for a little while, then returned to the door and resumed complaining about the absence of the tall man in armor.

After fifteen minutes, the officer approached the First Harbinger.

"Lord Capitano, my apologies. The puppy refuses to remain alone."

Capitano set his quill aside.

"Does he have water, food, and a place to rest?"

"Yes, sir. But he keeps asking to come to you."

The First Harbinger considered the report for a while. Then he permitted the bed to be temporarily moved into his office, since he intended to work for several more hours.

Bublik was extremely pleased with the new arrangement. He walked around the writing desk, sniffed Capitano's boots several times, carefully inspected the legs of the chair, and finally settled near his feet. Within a few minutes, the puppy fell asleep with his muzzle resting against the edge of one of the heavy soles.

Capitano looked down and carefully adjusted the position of his foot so as not to wake the animal. After that, he continued working.

The first evening passed quite peacefully, except for the fact that whenever Capitano was about to rise from his desk, Bublik woke up, followed him, and settled nearby again. Eventually, the First Harbinger discovered that he had already postponed getting documents from the neighboring cabinet for the third time because the puppy was resting too comfortably beside his boot.

For a man capable of issuing orders to thousands of soldiers without hesitation, such indecisiveness was rather unusual.

---

The following day, you came to visit Bublik.

Capitano's office was located in the administrative wing, not far from the military council chambers. The room was spacious but furnished rather strictly. Cabinets filled with documents stood along the walls, a large writing desk was positioned near the window, and several chairs for visitors were arranged opposite it. Maps and military diagrams were kept on a separate stand.

The First Harbinger was working at his desk when a cautious knock sounded.

"Come in," he said, not immediately raising his head from the document.

Upon seeing you, Capitano immediately set down his quill and rose.

"Your Highness. Good afternoon. I'm glad to see you."

"Good afternoon, Captain," you replied with a smile. "I wanted to see how Bublik was doing. May I see him?"

"Of course," he replied, indicating the bed beside his desk. "He's here."

However, Bublik, having heard the familiar voice, had already decided to announce his presence himself. Joyful whining came from beneath the desk, accompanied by the rapid clicking of tiny claws against the floor. The puppy rushed out from behind the chair, slipped momentarily on a smooth section of parquet, regained his balance, and charged toward you, wagging his tail desperately.

You crouched to greet the little one, and he immediately attempted to climb onto your knees. Bublik pressed his nose into your palms, licked your fingers, and made short, happy sounds whenever you stroked him between the ears.

Capitano watched what was happening with some surprise.

"I believe he recognizes you."

"It seems so," you replied, carefully supporting the puppy, who was simultaneously trying to lick your hand and reach the edge of your sleeve. "He's very sweet."

As though wishing to confirm the statement, Bublik rolled onto his back and offered his belly. You laughed softly and began petting him. The puppy happily stretched out his paws, then suddenly discovered the string of his own soft toy lying nearby and attempted to invite you to play.

Capitano approached a small shelf and picked up a fabric ball recommended by the canine handler.

"Marya informed me that he needs to play regularly and perform simple exercises. Perhaps this will be suitable."

You accepted the ball and gently rolled it across the floor. Bublik immediately rushed after it, caught up with the toy, and seized it between his teeth, but instead of returning it, he settled in the middle of the carpet, clearly expecting you to approach him yourself.

Capitano observed the scene for a while.

"He's supposed to bring the object back," the First Harbinger remarked, remembering the instructor's recommendations.

"It seems he hasn't learned the rules yet," you replied with a gentle smile.

Bublik raised his head upon hearing the voices and wagged his tail happily. The next moment, he abandoned the ball and ran back to you, completely forgetting about the previous activity. Capitano sighed quietly.

"Yes. I've already noticed."

You spent almost half an hour in the office playing with the puppy. Bublik repeatedly tried to climb onto your knees, learned to follow the ball, and accepted affection with great pleasure. Whenever he began to grow tired, you allowed him to rest for a little while before offering the toy again if the little one showed interest.

Capitano had initially intended to return to his documents. However, he soon discovered that he had been holding the same report for several minutes without actually reading much of it. His attention kept returning to you.

At the palace, you usually appeared at official events where everyone carefully observed etiquette. Now, however, you were sitting calmly on the carpet beside his desk, talking to the puppy and smiling whenever the little one clumsily attempted to catch a rolling toy. Capitano suddenly realized how pleasant it was to see you in his own office for reasons unrelated to official duties.

When you had to leave, Bublik attempted to follow you. The puppy ran to the door, stopped at the threshold, and gave a pitiful whimper upon hearing your footsteps gradually fading down the corridor. The First Harbinger carefully picked him up.

"Her Highness is busy, Bublik. You must not interfere with her responsibilities," he explained with the same seriousness he usually employed when addressing young officers.

The puppy looked at him and then attempted to lick his metal glove. Capitano remained silent for a moment.

"I believe you're not listening to me."

---

Over the next several days, Bublik became completely accustomed to the First Harbinger's office.

His bed now stood beside the writing desk, a small rug lay on the floor to prevent his paws from slipping on the parquet, and a basket of toys stood near the bookcase. Employees of the canine service regularly came to feed the puppy, take him for walks, and practice simple exercises, but most of the time, when Capitano was in his office, the little one preferred to remain close to him.

It soon became clear that Bublik had several habits that had not been accounted for in the palace security training program. First and foremost, he displayed an extraordinary interest in paper.

Capitano discovered this one morning when he briefly stepped away from his desk to discuss the patrol schedule with an officer. Upon returning, the First Harbinger saw the puppy sitting in the middle of the carpet, examining a small sheet of paper with tremendous enthusiasm, which had somehow ended up between his paws. The sheet was a draft copy of a schedule containing no classified information, but its lower corner had already acquired a rather peculiar shape.

"Bublik," Capitano said, approaching.

The puppy raised his head. For a while, he looked at the First Harbinger before happily wagging his tail without releasing the paper.

"Give it back."

Bublik considered the proposal for a moment before getting up and heading in the opposite direction. Capitano stopped.

During military operations, he had encountered opponents capable of predicting movements and changing tactics according to circumstances. However, the small puppy confidently running away from him with a damaged draft between his teeth operated according to principles with which the First Harbinger was clearly unfamiliar.

After a brief consideration, Capitano took an approved treat from the shelf and proposed an exchange. Bublik agreed to the arrangement almost immediately. Having recovered the paper, the First Harbinger carefully examined the damage and decided that from now on, all documents, even those of little importance, must be kept out of the puppy's reach.

The second peculiarity was discovered during preparations for a meeting. Bublik became interested in the straps on Capitano's gloves.

The First Harbinger usually removed his gloves only in his private rooms. One day, after leaving one of them on a low stand beside his chair, he briefly became distracted by a conversation with his secretary. Upon returning, Capitano discovered the puppy attempting with great concentration to drag the heavy glove toward his bed.

The metal part proved too heavy, so Bublik contented himself with pulling on the leather strap. The glove slowly moved across the carpet, leaving a noticeable trail in its pile. Capitano carefully retrieved the object, checked the condition of the strap, and provided the puppy with a suitable toy. Bublik accepted the replacement, although he continued looking at the glove with obvious regret for several more minutes.

The third habit proved the most unexpected. The puppy learned to recognize your footsteps.

At first, Capitano assumed it was an ordinary coincidence. Whenever you approached the office, Bublik stopped playing, raised his head, and listened attentively. Then he began wagging his tail, even if the door was still closed.

However, the First Harbinger soon became convinced that it was no coincidence. If an officer passed through the corridor, Bublik usually only raised his head for a moment. If a secretary appeared, he continued playing with his toy. But the moment you approached the door, the puppy immediately rose from his bed and began impatiently shifting from paw to paw.

Capitano gradually began paying attention to footsteps beyond the door as well. Although, unlike Bublik, he tried not to show it in any way.

---

You really did begin visiting more frequently.

Sometimes after finishing your morning lessons, sometimes between official meetings, and occasionally closer to evening, when the palace corridors gradually became deserted. You often carried a small toy you had purchased for Bublik or a treat approved by the canine handlers.

The puppy greeted you with the same enthusiasm every time. He rushed out from beneath the desk, hurriedly moving his paws, then attempted to climb into your arms, as though several hours of separation represented a completely unbearable ordeal.

You quickly became attached to the little one. You enjoyed stroking his soft fur, watching him learn new commands, and inventing small games that even such a young and inexperienced puppy could manage. Sometimes Bublik grew tired after only fifteen minutes and settled on your lap, entirely satisfied that nothing more was required of him.

Capitano, who had initially expected the puppy's temporary accommodation to be an exclusively organizational matter, unexpectedly discovered that the visits of the Tsaritsa's daughter had become one of the most pleasant parts of his working day.

Of course, he did not allow himself to draw hasty conclusions. You came to visit the animal you had fallen in love with back at the kennel. It was entirely natural, and the First Harbinger saw no reason to attribute any additional intentions to your visits.

And yet, sometimes he wanted to know whether you would stay in the office just as long if Bublik were not there. One evening, he decided to find out cautiously.

You were sitting in an armchair beside the fireplace, with the puppy resting on your lap. Snow was falling outside the window, the office smelled of freshly brewed tea, and an almost completed stack of reports lay on Capitano's desk.

"Your Highness," the First Harbinger began, setting his quill aside. "I hope my official duties do not interfere with your time here."

"No, not at all," you replied, gently stroking Bublik's back. "I like it here."

Capitano felt unexpected satisfaction but tried to maintain his usual tone.

"I'm glad to hear that."

He remained silent for a moment, looking at the puppy, who was already beginning to fall asleep on your lap.

"I believe he has considerably improved the atmosphere in the office."

You smiled.

"He's very good company."

"Undoubtedly," the First Harbinger agreed.

Capitano remained silent for several seconds before adding:

"Although his contribution to processing documents still raises certain questions."

You laughed softly, and Bublik raised his head upon hearing your voice. Once he was satisfied that everything was all right, the puppy settled comfortably again. Capitano returned to his papers, but the question he had truly wanted to ask remained unspoken.

---

A week later, Bublik attended his first military meeting. Naturally, no one had officially invited him.

That day, Capitano was supposed to meet with several senior officers to discuss supplies for the northern garrisons. It was decided to hold the meeting directly in his office because several maps already kept there needed to be examined.

The puppy was supposed to be temporarily handed over to an employee of the canine service, but by that time, Bublik was sleeping peacefully in his bed, and the First Harbinger decided that in the absence of external distractions, the animal would cause no inconvenience.

For the first twenty minutes, everything indeed proceeded without incident. Capitano stood beside the map, explaining the locations of the new supply warehouses. The officers listened attentively, took notes, and asked questions about the condition of the roads. Bublik continued sleeping not far from the desk, occasionally moving his paws slightly.

Then one of the officers dropped a pencil. The quiet knock woke the puppy.

Bublik raised his head, noticed several unfamiliar people, and apparently decided that an event intended especially for him had begun in the office. He climbed out of his bed, approached the nearest officer, and carefully placed his front paws on the man's boot.

The young man fell silent in the middle of his report.

"Continue, Lieutenant," Capitano said calmly, without looking away from the map.

"Yes, Lord Capitano. In that case, supplies to the eastern garrison could be..." The officer faltered when the puppy attempted to climb higher. "...transported through the northern pass."

Capitano finally turned around. Bublik was sitting beside the lieutenant's boot, looking up at him with sincere expectation.

"Bublik. Come here," the First Harbinger ordered.

The puppy turned his head, recognized the familiar voice, and happily ran toward the occupant of his temporary office. However, halfway there, he noticed a wooden pointer lying on the floor, which one of the officers had been using while working with the map.

The pointer seemed considerably more interesting to him than the original order. Bublik carefully seized its end between his teeth and attempted to drag the object toward his bed. One of the senior officers hastily covered his mouth with his hand. Capitano watched the puppy for several seconds before calmly approaching, exchanging the pointer for a toy, and handing the unsuitable object to his secretary.

"Please continue," he said, returning to the map.

The meeting resumed. However, approximately ten minutes later, Bublik decided that he absolutely needed to inspect another officer's boots. Then he discovered the drawstring on a small pouch containing writing supplies and began carefully examining it with his nose.

Capitano had to interrupt the discussion, pick up the puppy, and settle him near his bed.

"You need to rest," he informed the animal sternly.

Bublik looked at him and gave a quiet bark.

"That is not open for discussion."

The puppy licked his glove. Capitano fell silent briefly before gently stroking the little one between the ears. The colonel sitting opposite pretended to be extremely interested in the map.

But when, several minutes later, the First Harbinger resumed the discussion of supplies while holding Bublik in one arm, several officers no longer dared raise their eyes from their documents.

---

After the meeting, one of the young lieutenants informed Pierro that an animal had appeared in Capitano's office.

The Director knew about the puppy's temporary accommodation, but until that moment, he had no reason to take a personal interest in his fate. However, the report that the First Harbinger had conducted a discussion of military operations while holding a dog in his arms seemed unusual enough for him to visit the administrative wing the following day.

When Pierro entered, Capitano was sitting at his writing desk. Bublik was sleeping near his feet. The Director carefully examined the room, lingering on the small basket of toys standing beside the bookcase.

"I see your canine unit has already begun its work," Pierro remarked in his usual even voice.

Capitano rose from his desk.

"Good afternoon, Director. The puppy is staying here temporarily until the search for a suitable family is completed."

"Of course," Pierro replied, shifting his gaze toward the bed.

Bublik woke upon hearing the unfamiliar voice, climbed out of his soft blanket, and curiously approached the visitor. Pierro looked at him for a while.

"I assume this is the promising employee I was told about?"

"Unfortunately, he does not meet the requirements for service training," the First Harbinger replied seriously. "However, the animal is perfectly healthy and possesses a calm, friendly temperament."

Bublik sniffed the edge of the Director's cloak and carefully sat beside his boot. Pierro looked at Capitano.

"And what are his current duties?"

The First Harbinger paused briefly.

"At present – primarily resting."

The Director slowly nodded, as though he had received an entirely satisfactory answer.

"I see. I hope he's managing."

Capitano looked at the puppy.

"With varying degrees of success."

At that moment, Bublik rolled onto his back beside Pierro's boot, clearly expecting to be petted. The Director silently examined the animal for some time before carefully walking around him and heading toward the desk.

"I believe we should discuss the northern garrisons before your charge decides to demand attention from me as well."

Capitano followed him, his habitually serious expression unchanged. However, after the Director left, he discovered a small note from Pierro on his desk, in which the latter recommended checking whether expenses for toys ought to be included in the canine unit's official budget.

---

Gradually, Bublik became a completely familiar part of everyday life in the office.

The staff brought him food and fresh water, the canine handlers practiced simple commands with him, and Capitano himself became accustomed to checking where the puppy was before rising from his desk. In the mornings, Bublik usually greeted the First Harbinger near the door, rested on his soft bed during the day, and became especially playful toward evening.

He had already learned to obey several commands. Although, whenever you were nearby, his attention invariably shifted to you.

One day, Marya came to check the results of his lessons. She asked Capitano to demonstrate how the puppy responded to the recall command. The First Harbinger stopped beside his desk.

"Bublik. Come here."

The puppy obediently rose from the carpet and headed toward him. However, at that very moment, the office door opened, and you appeared.

"Good evening, Captain," you greeted him, noticing Marya. "Am I interrupting?"

Bublik immediately changed direction. He ran past Capitano, circled the armchair, nearly collided with his own basket of toys, and happily rushed toward you. Marya closed her eyes for several seconds.

"This is exactly what I was talking about, Lord Capitano."

Capitano looked at the puppy, who was already attempting to climb into your arms.

"I believe we've discovered a circumstance requiring additional training."

You crouched beside the little one and gently stroked him. Bublik immediately rolled onto his side, then jumped up again, brought you a soft ball, and placed it beside your palm. Marya watched the scene with interest.

"Curious. Actually, he still doesn't always bring toys back when asked."

Capitano looked at the ball for a while.

"He doesn't always do it for me either."

You smiled, offering the little one another round of the game. Bublik happily ran after the toy, seized it, and returned to you. This time, he placed the ball directly on your knee, then sat down and raised his little muzzle with great expectation.

Marya nodded with satisfaction.

"You see? He understands perfectly well what he's supposed to do. He simply prefers to choose whom he makes an effort for."

Capitano could think of no suitable objection. To a certain extent, he was familiar with that particular trait himself.

---

A few days later, you arrived at the office somewhat later than usual.

By that time, Bublik had grown so accustomed to your visits that after lunch, he began spending long periods sitting near the door. Sometimes he settled directly on the small rug, resting his muzzle on his front paws, and raised his head whenever footsteps sounded in the corridor.

Capitano noticed this. Although, on that particular day, he himself also looked at the clock several times.

You had a meeting with one of the palace secretaries in the afternoon, so you could not have arrived earlier. The First Harbinger knew this perfectly well and had no reason to expect your arrival at any particular time. Nevertheless, by evening, he discovered that he had already listened for footsteps beyond the door several times, in exactly the same manner as Bublik.

When you finally appeared, the puppy happily ran toward you, while Capitano rose from his desk with somewhat greater haste than ordinary politeness required.

"Your Highness. I'm glad to see you," he said, carefully pulling out a chair.

"Good evening. I hope I'm not too late," you replied, smiling at Bublik, who was already impatiently shifting from paw to paw beside your boots.

"Not at all. I was planning to finish my work somewhat later anyway."

You settled on the carpet beside the fireplace to play with the puppy for a while. Bublik brought his ball, then became interested in the soft rope you took from the basket and spent several minutes pulling it toward himself with great enthusiasm.

Capitano watched what was happening without immediately returning to his documents. In the warm light of the fireplace, your figure seemed particularly homely, and the usual strictness of his office gradually lost its former significance. Now, the quiet clicking of puppy paws could be heard here, your soft words to the little one occasionally sounded through the room, and toys lay on the carpet that only a few weeks earlier could never have existed in the First Harbinger's office.

Capitano suddenly realized that he had become accustomed to this scene. He liked returning to his office in the evening when Bublik was there. He liked knowing that you might stop by, settle near the fireplace, and spend some time beside him, even if he was occupied with work.

Sometimes you talked about entirely insignificant things: books, the weather, recent events at the palace. You might tell him about your day, while Capitano could share some interesting detail from his own service that was unrelated to classified assignments.

And yet, he still did not understand how much of those evenings you spent there exclusively for the puppy.

When Bublik grew tired and settled near your feet, the First Harbinger finally decided to speak.

"Your Highness, may I ask you a question?"

You raised your head.

"Of course, Captain."

Capitano paused briefly, choosing his words. He was accustomed to asking direct questions during military meetings, but the present circumstances seemed considerably more complicated.

"You have been visiting my office rather frequently over the past few weeks."

You smiled, gently stroking the dozing Bublik.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you?"

"Not at all," the First Harbinger replied hastily. "On the contrary. Your presence is pleasant to me."

He stopped, realizing that he had spoken the last words somewhat more openly than he had intended. However, it was already too late to retreat.

"I merely wanted to clarify whether I should arrange a separate room for Bublik, where you could spend time with him more freely."

You looked at the puppy lying beside your feet.

"He seems quite comfortable here. And so am I."

Capitano nodded carefully.

"I'm glad to hear that."

He returned to his writing desk, but still failed to determine whether the last part of your answer referred exclusively to the room, to the puppy, or perhaps to the First Harbinger's own company. The question proved considerably more complicated than most of the tasks he encountered during his service.

---

Soon, Marya reported that potential owners had been found for Bublik.

The canine service had received several applications from families living in the capital. All interested parties had suitable conditions for keeping an animal and had agreed to undergo the necessary checks. Capitano thanked the head of the kennel for the information and requested details about the candidates.

However, after Marya left, he unexpectedly discovered that he did not feel his usual satisfaction at the successful completion of an assignment. Several weeks earlier, the question of accommodating the puppy had seemed an exclusively temporary organizational matter. The First Harbinger had intended to provide the animal with proper conditions, wait for a suitable owner, and transfer him to a family where Bublik could receive sufficient attention.

Now, however, a small dog bed stood in his office, a basket of toys rested beside the armchair, and traces of puppy paws occasionally remained on the carpet. Capitano had become accustomed to carefully rising from his desk so as not to disturb the sleeping little one. He had become accustomed to short walks between meetings and even to Bublik occasionally attempting to obtain an additional petting while he worked with documents.

But the most unpleasant part was something else. The First Harbinger understood perfectly well that after the puppy moved away, your visits would probably become considerably less frequent.

He could not blame you for that. You came to play with Bublik, who had sincerely grown attached to you, not to observe the work of the military office every day.

And yet, the thought that his office would become as quiet as it had been before seemed, for some reason, entirely unappealing.

That evening, Capitano spent a long time examining the prepared documents concerning the animal's transfer. Bublik, meanwhile, was sleeping beside his desk with his muzzle resting on a soft toy. The First Harbinger carefully set his quill aside.

"I believe you'll soon have a permanent home," he said quietly.

The puppy raised his head upon hearing the familiar voice, then rolled onto his side, offering his belly. Capitano remained silent for a moment before gently petting him.

"Of course, I should be happy."

Bublik stretched contentedly. The First Harbinger continued looking at the little one for some time.

"However, I must admit that I will miss you."

---

The following day, you arrived closer to evening.

The office was warm. Large snowflakes were falling outside the windows, a lamp burned on the writing desk, and several recently delivered logs lay beside the fireplace. Capitano had finished the main part of his work and was reviewing a small folder when he heard the familiar knock.

Bublik, who had been resting peacefully until then, instantly raised his head.

"Come in," the First Harbinger said.

The door opened, and the puppy immediately ran to greet you. You crouched near the threshold to pet the little one, and he, utterly delighted, began rubbing his muzzle against your palms. Bublik quickly climbed onto your knees, licked your hand several times, and apparently had absolutely no intention of returning to the floor.

Capitano watched what was happening with his usual composure, although deep down, this meeting somehow seemed a little sad to him.

"Good evening, Your Highness," he greeted you. "I'm glad to see you."

"Good evening, Captain," you replied, carefully supporting Bublik. "How has he been today?"

"Quite well. He trained with the canine handler this morning and rested after lunch. Although, as far as I understand, he now intends to make up for a lack of attention."

Bublik barked happily, as though confirming the First Harbinger's words. You settled into the armchair beside the fireplace, and Capitano ordered tea to be brought. While the servant arranged a small table, the puppy managed to investigate the edge of your sleeve, settle on your lap, and receive several well-deserved strokes.

When the servant left, the First Harbinger spoke cautiously.

"Your Highness, today I received news from the canine unit."

You raised your eyes toward him.

"Has something happened?"

"Nothing bad," Capitano hastened to clarify. "Marya informed me that potential owners have been found for Bublik."

He placed the folder on the table.

"Several families have expressed their desire to take him in. The final checks of their living conditions are currently being carried out."

Meanwhile, Bublik discovered a soft ball on the carpet and, climbing down from your lap, headed toward it. However, after picking up the toy, he returned almost immediately, as though he considered it absolutely necessary to continue playing in your presence.

Capitano followed him with his gaze.

"I believe the question of his future accommodation will be settled within a few days."

There was no obvious sadness in his voice, but the words sounded somewhat quieter than usual. The First Harbinger did not want to interfere with finding a suitable family merely because of his own attachment, although the thought of the approaching separation already caused him unexpected regret.

You played with Bublik for a while until he grew tired and settled beside your boots. Capitano carefully moved his soft bed closer to the fireplace before sitting opposite you.

The room became peaceful. Snow continued falling outside the windows, the fire crackled quietly, and Bublik gradually fell asleep with his muzzle resting on the edge of the blanket.

Capitano watched the puppy, reflecting on how much his usual evenings had changed. He was accustomed to silence and solitude. After many centuries of service, such a way of life seemed natural to him. But now, with you and the small puppy in his office, the First Harbinger unexpectedly realized that he had no desire whatsoever to return to the previous routine.

He had once already lost a home, friends, and almost everything that connected him to his former life. He would never compare those losses to the approaching separation from an animal he had known for only a few weeks. And yet, his familiar desire not to become attached to anything he might one day have to leave behind made him hesitate once again.

Capitano slowly shifted his gaze toward you.

"Your Highness," he said after a prolonged pause. "I believe there is one more matter I should discuss with you."

He carefully rested his hands on the armrests of his chair, trying to choose words that would sound neither too formal nor excessively insistent.

"I find myself thinking more and more about how accustomed Bublik has become to this place. He feels comfortable here, receives the necessary care, and seems quite content with our company."

The First Harbinger glanced briefly at the sleeping puppy.

"Perhaps I should consider keeping him myself. Of course, provided that I can give him sufficient attention and proper living conditions."

A barely perceptible uncertainty entered his voice. Capitano could easily make a decision about the movement of an entire military unit, but the question of whether he should keep a small dog somehow seemed considerably more personal.

He carefully adjusted the strap on his glove before addressing you again.

"However, I would like to know your opinion. You have become no less attached to him than I have, and it seems wrong to me to make such a decision without discussing it with you."

Bublik sighed quietly in his sleep, stretching out his paws. Capitano lingered on him with his gaze for a moment, and his expression softened almost imperceptibly.

"And another thing..." The First Harbinger paused briefly, clearly deciding whether he should continue.

He had long intended to invite you to spend time together outside his office. Several times, an appropriate moment had almost presented itself, but then Bublik demanded attention, an officer arrived with documents, or Capitano simply could not find the right words. Now, however, the approaching change made him wonder how many more opportunities he intended to let pass.

"I understand that most of the time you came here for him," he said cautiously. "And, I must admit, it was very pleasant for me to watch how well the two of you got along."

He inclined his head slightly.

"But I would like to hope that my company was not unpleasant to you either."

Capitano fell silent, awaiting your reaction, but at that very moment, Bublik woke up, climbed out of his bed, and sleepily headed toward you. The puppy stopped between the two armchairs, studied you and the First Harbinger for a while, then attempted to climb onto Capitano's lap.

He carefully picked him up, and Bublik immediately settled on his arm, burying his nose in the dark fabric of his sleeve. But the moment the puppy noticed you sitting opposite him, he began wagging his tail again and reaching toward you with his front paws.

Capitano observed his attempts to reach you for a while before carefully supporting the little one so that he would not fall.

"It seems he doesn't wish to choose between us," the First Harbinger remarked, and for the first time that evening, a barely perceptible smile could be heard in his voice.

Bublik barked happily.

Capitano lowered his head slightly, examining the puppy, before looking toward you again. He wanted to say that he himself would prefer not to make such a choice either. That over the past few weeks, he had grown no less accustomed to your presence than to Bublik's quiet breathing beneath his desk. And that the small puppy, entirely unsuitable for military service, had unexpectedly given him something he had never dared ask for himself: the opportunity to see you almost every day.

The First Harbinger carefully extended his free hand toward you, offering to help Bublik move over to you if you wished to take him.

"Tell me, please..." Capitano began, this time deliberately abandoning his customary formal address. "If I keep him here, will you continue coming to see us?"

He paused briefly, then added considerably more quietly:

"And perhaps, one day, would you agree to spend an evening with me, even if our little friend decides to sleep through the entire thing?"

Four Alibis

---

Being the daughter of the Tsaritsa meant becoming accustomed from early childhood to the fact that almost no event in your life belonged exclusively to you. Courtiers knew the schedule of your lessons, servants prepared rooms in advance for your arrival, guards accompanied you during journeys, and at official events, every conversation inevitably became the subject of someone's attention. Most of these circumstances had long since become a familiar part of everyday life, but there were still certain things you preferred to keep out of the palace's sight. And over the past few months, you had acquired a particularly compelling reason to value your privacy.

You were in a relationship with Capitano. Falling in love with the First Harbinger had proved considerably easier than admitting it to your own mother. Your relationship had developed slowly, beginning with ordinary conversations after meetings, walks together through the palace gardens, and rare evenings when Capitano found time to distract himself from his military duties. He had never attempted to rush things and, for a long time, had not even dared openly express his feelings, fearing that he might place you in an awkward position. But eventually, several cautious confessions led to the fact that you were now meeting not merely as the daughter of the Tsaritsa and the First Harbinger.

In public, almost nothing had changed. Capitano continued addressing you as "Your Highness," respectfully inclined his head when you met, and observed all the required formalities. He accompanied you to official events when circumstances demanded it, spoke with you in the presence of the other Harbingers, and never allowed himself a single gesture that might arouse suspicion. Only when you were alone did his customary restraint gradually give way to the tenderness whose existence most courtiers did not even suspect.

He might remove his glove to gently take your hand, adjust a cloak that had slipped from your shoulder, or linger outside your chambers for several minutes longer than necessary. Sometimes, after particularly difficult days, you visited his office, and Capitano set aside his documents to spend the evening talking with you. You drank tea together, discussed completely insignificant events, and sometimes simply enjoyed the opportunity to be near each other without prying eyes. The First Harbinger rarely allowed himself to speak at great length about his own feelings, but expressed them through the consistent care that had gradually become familiar to you. Behind closed doors, he willingly embraced you, held you close after a long separation, allowed you to touch his face, and sometimes completely lost track of time when you asked him to stay a little longer. His kisses were usually unhurried, and his habit of holding you by the waist remained even during the most ordinary domestic conversations.

Of course, you had no intention of hiding your relationship forever. However, Capitano's position at court made such a confession rather complicated. He served your mother, held the highest rank among the Harbingers, and did not want those around him to begin questioning his impartiality or attributing personal motives to every order concerning the princess's safety. You, in turn, understood perfectly well how many questions would arise among the courtiers as soon as it became known that the daughter of the Tsaritsa was dating a man who had served her family long before your birth.

Therefore, for the time being, you preferred to remain cautious. And, to Capitano's slight embarrassment, you sometimes even enjoyed watching how seriously one of the most powerful warriors in Snezhnaya treated the necessity of concealing a perfectly ordinary romantic relationship.

However, until a certain evening, both of you believed that the most unpleasant situation that could arise because of your secret would be accidentally running into the Tsaritsa during a walk. In reality, everything turned out considerably worse.

---

At the beginning of winter, a private reception was held at the Zapolyarny Palace to mark the conclusion of several new agreements between the military department, the treasury, and representatives of the northern provinces. High-ranking officials, senior officers, certain members of the nobility, and several Harbingers were invited to the event. The presence of outsiders was restricted, and most of the negotiations took place in small offices adjoining the main hall.

You attended the reception at your mother's request. The Tsaritsa considered it important for her daughter to gradually become familiar with the state's administrative affairs, so such evenings often became an opportunity for you to observe the work of the court departments. The event itself proceeded in the usual manner: waiters carried drinks, small groups of officials gathered near the fireplaces, and quiet music from a string ensemble could be heard from the neighboring hall. The tall windows were covered with thick curtains because a snowstorm was raging beyond them, and the palace lights were reflected in the polished marble floor.

Capitano was also among the guests. He arrived somewhat later than the beginning of the reception, since he had previously attended a meeting with officers of the northern garrison. During the first hour, the First Harbinger spoke mainly with military personnel, discussed upcoming supplies, and occasionally answered questions from officials interested in the condition of the border fortifications.

He managed to exchange only a few ordinary phrases with you. In the presence of those around you, Capitano respectfully greeted you, asked whether the evening was going well, and inquired whether you required an escort.

"Thank you, Captain. I'm managing perfectly well so far," you replied with an impeccable courtly smile, understanding perfectly well how absurd such formality sounded in a conversation with the man you had been kissing beside the fireplace only the previous evening.

"I'm glad to hear that, Your Highness," he said, inclining his head. When one of the courtiers became distracted by a passing secretary, the First Harbinger barely perceptibly touched your hand with his fingertips, then moved slightly closer, as though preparing to tell you something about the upcoming negotiations. "I hope this evening won't prove too exhausting for you."

"I'm already beginning to dream of it being over," you admitted quietly, taking advantage of the fact that everyone around you was occupied with their own conversations.

"In that case, I'll try not to keep you waiting," Capitano replied, and the barely perceptible warmth in his voice was meant exclusively for you.

The touch lasted only a moment, but it was quite enough to remind you that, apart from all your official responsibilities, you had your own plans for the evening.

Several days earlier, you had asked Capitano to meet you after the main part of the reception had ended. There was a small northern observatory in the palace that was rarely used during the winter months. Its glass-enclosed gallery offered a view of the snow-covered mountains, and since most guests preferred to remain in the warm halls, there was usually no one there after ten o'clock.

Capitano agreed almost immediately, although he first clarified whether the route to the observatory was sufficiently safe and whether the meeting would interfere with your duties. You assured him that everything had already been arranged, and he promised to be free at approximately a quarter past ten. None of the palace servants were informed of your intentions. To everyone else, it was supposed to be an entirely ordinary evening, during which the First Harbinger would finish his negotiations and return to his official duties, while the princess would retire to her own chambers.

Around ten o'clock, Capitano did indeed finish his conversation with several officers, after which he headed toward the administrative wing. He needed to deliver signed documents to the deputy chairman of the commission for northern supplies – Leontiy Velsky, an influential official who had spent many years overseeing the distribution of state funds among the military departments.

Velsky was respected at court, although his character was rather unpleasant. He carefully monitored observance of the official hierarchy, frequently entered into disputes over financial authority, and liked to remind those around him that even the Harbingers were obliged to take the treasury's orders into account. Disagreements occasionally arose between him and Capitano, since the First Harbinger preferred to provide the garrisons with the necessary resources without prolonged bureaucratic discussions.

Nevertheless, such disputes rarely extended beyond official meetings. Capitano harbored no personal dislike toward Velsky, and the official himself, despite his customary harshness, understood perfectly well how important the military units were to Snezhnaya's security.

At approximately ten minutes past ten, the First Harbinger left Velsky's office. Two servants carrying documents through the neighboring corridor saw him, and the official's secretary later confirmed that the conversation had indeed taken place. According to the witnesses, Capitano left the room calmly, without raising his voice or showing any signs of irritation.

After that, he headed toward the northern staircase, already considerably more interested in his upcoming meeting with you than in the recently concluded discussion of state expenditures. At a quarter past ten, no one saw you together anymore.

---

The northern observatory was located in the old part of the Zapolyarny Palace. It could be reached through several service corridors and a small staircase leading to the glass-enclosed gallery. On ordinary days, the room was used for observing the weather and certain celestial phenomena, but in winter, most of the equipment was covered with protective cloths, and the astronomers on duty rarely remained there after finishing their work.

When Capitano arrived, you were already waiting for him beside one of the windows. Beyond the glass, snow swirled slowly, illuminated by distant lanterns in the palace garden. It was sufficiently warm inside thanks to a small stove, although the air near the windows was still cool. A tea service that you had requested in advance stood on a small table beside the armchairs, while several lamps softly illuminated the wooden panels of the walls.

The First Harbinger closed the door behind him, made certain there was no one in the corridor, and only then allowed himself to relax a little.

"My apologies for keeping you waiting," he said, approaching. "Velsky delayed me with some documents. Several points needed clarification."

"I was already beginning to think I'd have to come and personally free you from your duties," you replied, turning away from the window with a smile.

Capitano gently took your hand. His heavy glove was cold after walking through the northern wing, so he removed it almost immediately before touching your fingers again.

"I'm afraid that would have made quite an impression on Mr. Velsky," he remarked, gently squeezing your palm. "Especially if you had demanded that he release me from the meeting immediately."

"That's exactly what I'll do next time."

"Then I'll try not to give you a reason to," the First Harbinger replied, and this time a smile could be heard quite clearly in his voice.

You spent some time discussing the reception, the guests, and several particularly tiresome conversations. Capitano told you about a dispute between representatives of the treasury and the military department that had lasted considerably longer than planned, then asked whether your official duties had exhausted you too much.

"I spent the entire evening smiling at people, half of whom I barely know," you complained, settling near the table with the tea. "And one official spent almost twenty minutes telling me about the advantages of the new procedure for completing tax records."

"Twenty minutes?" Capitano clarified, removing his heavy cloak and neatly folding it over the back of an armchair. "My sympathies. Even at military meetings, I rarely have to endure such a trial."

"Exactly. And you still ask whether I'm tired."

"In that case, I should have kidnapped you from the reception much earlier."

You laughed, and Capitano approached, gently placing his hands on your waist. In the presence of courtiers, he would never have allowed himself such a gesture, but now that there were no guards or officials behind the door, the First Harbinger quite calmly drew you closer. His embrace was firm and familiar, and for some time, he simply stood beside you, enjoying the opportunity to finally touch you without having to look over his shoulder at those around him.

"And what stopped you?" you asked, raising your head toward him.

"My rather unfortunate sense of responsibility," he replied, gently stroking your back. "Unfortunately, it's quite difficult to get rid of."

After making certain that there really was no one else in the observatory, Capitano removed his helmet and left it on the table beside his gloves. He still disliked showing his face to outsiders, but around you, he had gradually stopped feeling the need to hide behind metal every minute. You had known for a long time what the man you loved looked like, and you had never treated the consequences of his curse with the disgust he had once feared.

The First Harbinger gently touched his lips to your forehead, then lingered closer, allowing you to close the remaining distance yourself. When you reached toward him, Capitano returned the kiss with his usual unhurried tenderness, supporting you by the waist with one hand while gently touching your cheek with the other. He leaned down slightly so that you would not have to stretch too high to reach him, and only after some time did he pull away, continuing to hold you in his arms.

"I missed you," he admitted quietly, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

"We saw each other this morning," you reminded him, although you understood perfectly well that a brief meeting in the corridor was no substitute for the opportunity to spend time together.

"True. But then I couldn't even allow myself to embrace you," Capitano replied, gently moving a stray strand of hair away from your face. "I believe I'm entitled to complain a little."

"Only a little?"

"If you allow me, I could continue."

You smiled and kissed him again, interrupting any further reasoning. Capitano chuckled quietly, returned the kiss, and held you a little closer for several seconds. Over the past few months, he had learned to show tenderness quite freely when you were alone, although he still grew embarrassed whenever you noticed how much he enjoyed such moments.

Soon, you settled beside the window. Capitano sat in a wide armchair, while you made yourself comfortable beside him, allowing him to put an arm around your shoulders. He poured tea for both of you, carefully moved a plate of small pastries closer to you, and continued telling you about winter festivals he remembered from his days in Khaenri'ah, occasionally pausing to find the exact word to describe an old custom.

You listened to him, asking questions from time to time. When Capitano described one particularly noisy festival that, in his youth, had included competitions between military units, you looked at him in surprise.

"And you participated too?"

"Several times."

"And I'm sure you won."

"Not always," he admitted, inclining his head slightly. "Once, I lost a shooting competition because I was too hasty with my final shot."

"I can't believe it. Capitano himself made a mistake?"

"Unfortunately, such events do occasionally occur," the First Harbinger replied with an entirely serious expression. "But I would be grateful if you didn't tell my officers about it."

You laughed, and Capitano gently kissed your temple. He enjoyed conversations like these, which did not require discussing military losses, classified assignments, or government decisions. Beside you, he could remember a time when he had simply been a young man with friends, personal interests, and quite ordinary concerns.

Later, you rose and approached the window to get a better look at the snow-covered mountains. Capitano remained in his armchair for a while, then followed you. He stopped behind you, gently wrapped his arms around your waist, and drew you closer so that you could comfortably lean against him. His palms rested calmly over your clothing, and for a few moments, his chin touched your temple. The snowstorm continued beyond the glass, and the soft light of the palace lanterns barely reached the distant paths.

"Beautiful," you said quietly, watching the snow.

"Very," Capitano agreed, although at that moment, he was looking at something entirely different from the mountains.

You turned your head, noticing his gaze.

"Are you even looking out the window?"

"From time to time," he admitted, without loosening his embrace.

"Capitano..."

"I'm listening, darling," the First Harbinger replied with such composure that one might have thought the conversation concerned a perfectly ordinary official matter.

You shook your head with a smile, while he gently kissed you near your temple and allowed you to settle more comfortably in his arms. You stood like that for some time, talking in low voices while the tea on the table gradually grew cold. Capitano occasionally stroked your waist with his thumb, and when you turned to face him, he leaned down for another kiss. By now, he had no desire to return to the conversation about state expenditures, military garrisons, or upcoming meetings, although all of that inevitably awaited him in the morning.

"I like it when we can simply be alone together," you admitted, adjusting the edge of his collar.

"So do I," Capitano replied, holding your hand in his. "And I hope that one day we won't have to choose empty rooms for it."

"So you're suggesting we tell Mom?"

"I'm suggesting that we gradually prepare for the conversation," the First Harbinger cautiously clarified. "I wouldn't want her to learn about our relationship from accidental rumors."

You looked at him with slight amusement.

"I can imagine her face if she suddenly sees you kissing me."

Capitano considered the matter briefly, clearly imagining the consequences of such an incident.

"I believe the conversation would be rather lengthy."

"Would you be frightened?"

"I deeply respect your mother," he replied, gently stroking your hand. "But I admit that in such a situation, I would feel considerably calmer standing before an enemy army."

You laughed, and the First Harbinger, pleased that he had managed to amuse you, drew you closer again. At one point, he even allowed himself a small joke about how, if you were discovered, an official explanation would have to be prepared regarding the reasons for his presence in a closed observatory after working hours.

"Although I suppose you could convince your mother that I was conducting an unscheduled security inspection," he remarked, with barely perceptible amusement in his voice.

"Of course. Especially if she asks why you were kissing me during the inspection," you replied, unable to hold back a smile.

Capitano considered the matter for a moment before gently shaking his head.

"I'm afraid that would require a more convincing explanation."

The First Harbinger hardly suspected how soon he would actually have to explain his movements to the Tsaritsa.

Around eleven o'clock, you finally prepared to return. Capitano helped you adjust your cloak, carefully fastened the upper clasp, and kept his hands near your shoulders for several seconds, as though reluctant to end the meeting. When you suggested staying a little longer, he looked at the clock with obvious regret but reminded you that you both needed to return before the night guard changed shifts.

"You're incorrigible," you remarked, allowing him to finish fastening the clasp.

"I'm afraid so," Capitano admitted, then gently wrapped his arms around your waist. "But if I stay for another half hour, it will be considerably more difficult for me to let you go."

Before opening the door, he checked the corridor again, then allowed himself one more kiss, this time a little longer than the previous one. You gently held onto his shoulders, and the First Harbinger did not immediately pull away, clearly not particularly eager to end the evening.

"See you tomorrow," he said quietly, touching his lips to your forehead. "And try to get some rest after today's reception."

"You too. And don't spend the entire night sitting over your documents," you replied, adjusting his collar.

"I'll try."

You parted near a small staircase. Capitano headed toward the administrative rooms, while you returned to the residential wing through another corridor. Everything had gone so peacefully that you both believed another secret evening had successfully ended without incident.

However, less than ten minutes later, the alarm was raised in the palace.

---

The body of Leontiy Velsky was discovered in his office at eleven oh nine in the evening.

The official's secretary had come to collect several signed documents and found the owner of the office sitting motionless in an armchair beside his writing desk. An overturned glass lay on the floor, some of the papers were scattered, and the window was slightly open despite the cold weather. At first, the servant assumed that Velsky had fallen ill, but the doctor who arrived almost immediately established that there were no signs of life.

The office was immediately sealed. The guards on duty were reinforced, the list of reception guests was handed over to the security service, and all high-ranking officials were ordered to remain in the palace until the circumstances had been clarified. The music in the main hall stopped, the waiters ceased serving drinks, and the courtiers who had recently been discussing trade agreements began exchanging anxious remarks among themselves.

Pierro was among the first to arrive. He ordered access to the administrative wing to be restricted, Dottore to be summoned to investigate the circumstances of death, and the identities of everyone who had visited Velsky's office after nine o'clock in the evening to be established immediately.

Capitano learned of the incident while already on his way to his own office. The First Harbinger immediately headed toward the place where the body had been discovered. He listened attentively to the guards' initial reports, clarified the time the deceased had been found, and suggested assigning additional units to inspect the palace exits. At first, his involvement seemed entirely natural: Capitano had extensive experience investigating incidents connected with the security of military facilities and usually assisted Pierro in such circumstances.

Everything changed when Velsky's secretary reported that the last person he had personally seen near the office had been the First Harbinger himself.

It then emerged that several days earlier, a disagreement had indeed occurred between them at a meeting of the commission for northern supplies. And a few minutes later, the head of security brought a register indicating that Capitano had left the administrative wing later than he himself claimed.

Pierro carefully examined the documents, then asked the First Harbinger to accompany him to a separate room.

"Captain, I need to clarify your movements between ten and eleven o'clock this evening," the Director said, arranging the first witness statements before him.

Capitano nodded calmly.

"Of course."

"At ten oh nine, you visited Velsky's office. This has been confirmed by two servants and his secretary."

"Correct. I delivered documents concerning supplies for the northern garrisons."

"What did you discuss?"

"We discussed the costs of constructing several fortifications and the distribution of funds among contractors. The conversation proceeded in the usual manner."

Pierro wrote down the answer and examined the neighboring page for a while.

"When did you leave the office?"

"At approximately ten twelve."

"And where were you after that?"

Capitano did not answer immediately. Until then, he had calmly described the official circumstances of the evening, feeling no need to conceal anything from the Director. However, the question now concerned an entirely different part of his life. He understood perfectly well that telling the truth would mean revealing your relationship. And not during the peaceful conversation with the Tsaritsa that you had someday intended to have together, but during an investigation into the murder of one of her high-ranking officials.

"I was outside the administrative wing," the First Harbinger finally said.

"Where exactly?" Pierro clarified.

"In the northern part of the palace."

"Alone?"

Capitano lowered his head for a moment.

"I would prefer not to answer that question for now."

Pierro slowly set down his quill. He had known Capitano for many centuries and understood perfectly well that such an evasive answer was completely inconsistent with the First Harbinger's usual manner. During official investigations, he generally provided comprehensive information and did not attempt to conceal his own actions.

"Captain, do you understand how serious your situation is?"

"I do."

"And yet you refuse to name the person who could confirm your whereabouts?"

The First Harbinger looked at the documents lying before the Director for some time.

"I am not refusing to cooperate with the investigation. However, the circumstances of my presence in the northern wing concern more than just myself. I do not consider it right to disclose them without another person's consent."

Pierro looked at him attentively.

"Are you protecting someone?"

"I am keeping a promise I made," Capitano replied, without changing his calm tone.

"At present, I am investigating the death of a state official, not the violation of a private agreement."

"I am aware of that, Director."

Pierro remained silent for some time, clearly attempting to determine just how far the First Harbinger intended to go with his unusual caution.

"In that case, I hope you understand the consequences of such a decision."

Capitano slowly nodded.

"Completely."

---

By the following morning, almost the entire Zapolyarny Palace was already discussing Velsky's murder.

Officially, the administration had announced only the sudden death of a high-ranking official and the opening of an investigation. However, rumors spread considerably faster than official orders. Courtiers recalled the recent disagreements between Velsky and the First Harbinger, secretaries discussed the last visitors to the office, and some officials suggested that the death might be connected with the distribution of funds for constructing northern fortifications.

Initially, your name was not mentioned in these conversations. That changed after a letter addressed to the daughter of the Tsaritsa was discovered in the deceased man's office.

The document lay in a small drawer of the writing desk among several unfinished reports. The envelope was made of thick paper, your name was written on its outer side, and inside was a sheet bearing Velsky's neat signature. The letter had no markings indicating it had been sent, and judging by its position among the other papers, it might have been a prepared but not yet delivered message.

Pierro personally read its contents.

"Your Highness,

I am compelled to address you regarding circumstances that I do not consider it possible to discuss in the presence of outsiders. Over the past few weeks, certain information has come to my attention concerning the actions of the First Harbinger and their possible influence on the interests of the crown.

I believe that, for your own well-being, it would be wiser to familiarize yourself with this information before the relevant materials come into Her Majesty's possession.

I ask you to visit my office today at ten thirty in the evening. Preferably without an escort, since the matter concerns circumstances of a personal nature.

Respectfully, Leontiy Velsky."

The letter created an extremely unpleasant picture. According to its contents, the deceased official had intended to meet with you during precisely the period when, according to Dottore's preliminary estimates, death could have occurred. At the same time, the document mentioned Capitano and certain information of a personal nature that Velsky supposedly did not wish to reveal publicly.

Pierro ordered you to be summoned immediately to give a statement. When you arrived in the interrogation room, the Director, several representatives of the security service, and Capitano himself were already there. The First Harbinger stood beside the window with his hands folded behind his back. He respectfully greeted you as soon as you entered, but from how long his gaze lingered on you, it was clear that your presence here troubled him.

Pierro offered you a seat and placed the letter on the table.

"Your Highness, first of all, I would like to assure you that, at present, we have no grounds to consider you involved in Velsky's death," he said in a calm, official tone. "However, a document addressed to you was discovered in the deceased man's office. We need to establish whether you received any such correspondence."

You took the letter, carefully read several lines, and frowned.

"No. I have never received anything like this from Mr. Velsky," you replied, returning the document to the Director. "And he has never asked me for a private meeting. At least, not as far as I remember."

The Director listened carefully to your answer and made several notes.

"I see. And did Velsky ever discuss any circumstances concerning the First Harbinger with you?"

Capitano turned his head slightly. He already understood how unpleasant the further investigation might become, but he had no intention of interfering as long as Pierro's questions remained within the bounds of official necessity.

"No. Mostly, he spoke to me about treasury affairs or upcoming receptions," you replied after a brief consideration. "Why is Capitano even mentioned in the letter?"

"That is precisely what we are trying to establish," Pierro said, carefully folding the document. "Perhaps the late official genuinely possessed important information. But we cannot rule out the possibility that the letter was written for another purpose."

"Then why was it lying in his office if he never even tried to contact me?"

"A good question, Your Highness," the Director admitted. "And for now, I don't have a sufficiently convincing answer."

Pierro turned to the witness statements.

"Then one more question. Where were you between ten twenty and eleven o'clock yesterday evening?"

The First Harbinger straightened. For a moment, he felt that it was time to intervene, but he stopped himself. You had every right to decide for yourself whether you intended to reveal the circumstances of your meeting.

You involuntarily looked toward Capitano, who stood beside the window with an entirely motionless military bearing. Only yesterday, at this very time, he had been embracing you by the waist, telling you stories about the festivals of Khaenri'ah, and kissing you beside the snow-covered window of the observatory. Now, however, both of you were expected to explain your movements to the Director of the Fatui.

"I was in the northern wing," you replied, trying to speak calmly enough. "After the reception, I wanted to rest from the guests for a while."

Pierro raised his eyes from his notes.

"In which room exactly?"

"Near the old observatory."

The Director remained silent for several seconds before slowly shifting his gaze toward Capitano.

"Curious. The Captain also claims that he was in the northern part of the palace."

You felt that the further questions were becoming increasingly dangerous.

"The northern wing is quite large, Director."

"Absolutely correct," Pierro agreed. "That is why I would like to clarify: were you there alone?"

The First Harbinger made a barely perceptible movement, as though about to say something.

Pierro noticed it immediately.

"Captain?"

"Nothing, Director," Capitano replied, forcing himself to remain silent.

You looked at the documents lying before Pierro. Pointing to Capitano would mean confirming his alibi, but at the same time revealing circumstances that you had not yet had time to discuss together.

"I don't think my personal walks have anything to do with Velsky's death," you finally said.

Pierro lowered his gaze to his notes for a moment.

"Perhaps you're right. However, at present, we have too little reliable information to exclude even the most insignificant circumstances."

Capitano looked at you again. He understood perfectly well why you did not wish to continue the conversation and was prepared to accept any consequences of his own silence. But now the situation was becoming considerably more complicated: you, too, had become involved in the investigation, and the deceased man's letter could turn an ordinary secret into a circumstance of a criminal case.

---

Over the next two days, the investigation became considerably more complicated.

Dottore established that Velsky's death had resulted from exposure to a rare toxic substance. According to the preliminary conclusions, the poison could have entered his body some time before the first symptoms appeared, making it impossible to determine the exact minute of death. Unlike ordinary poisoning, the effects developed gradually: the official could continue talking, working with documents, and even remain unaware that he had already been exposed to the substance.

This discovery complicated Capitano's position even further. Even if he could prove that he had been far from the office at the moment of death, the investigation would still have to establish whether he had had an opportunity to deliver the poisoned object earlier.

Dottore presented the results of his examination at a small meeting attended by Pierro, Capitano, and several officers.

"At present, I am not prepared to state that the poison was in the drink specifically," the scholar explained, arranging his laboratory notes. "Traces of the substance were found on the glass, but they could have been transferred there secondarily. We also found similar particles on the surface of the writing desk and on one of the envelopes."

"Which one exactly?" Pierro asked.

"The letter addressed to Her Highness."

Capitano immediately raised his head.

"Does this substance pose a danger through physical contact?"

"At the concentration discovered – unlikely. But I would still recommend exercising caution," Dottore replied, examining the results. "Especially considering that someone clearly intended to leave this document conspicuous enough to be found."

"The letter has already been handed to the princess," Capitano reminded him, and although his voice remained calm, Dottore noticed perfectly well how quickly he had become interested in the possible consequences.

"And I have already checked whether that presented any danger," the scholar replied with a certain irritated condescension. "Her Highness is perfectly fine, Captain. If there were grounds for concern, I would have informed you."

Pierro frowned.

"Are you suggesting the letter was planted?"

"I'm suggesting that its appearance in the office deserves considerably more attention than we initially gave it."

Dottore turned the page and stopped at one of the conclusions.

"Furthermore, the deceased man's handwriting has not yet been definitively confirmed. The signature looks convincing, but that isn't sufficient."

"So someone could have written the letter in his name?" one of the officers clarified.

"Precisely. And then left it among the documents so that the investigators would inevitably discover it," Dottore explained, carefully tapping his finger against the edge of the folder.

Capitano remained silent for a while. He already understood that someone might have deliberately used the mention of the princess to influence the course of the investigation. And if the letter really was forged, its author possessed information that an ordinary courtier should not have known.

"Will you be able to establish where the poison was obtained?" the First Harbinger asked.

"Given access to the medical department's archives – probably," Dottore replied. "However, I wouldn't rush to exclude other sources just yet."

The scholar carefully gathered his documents before shifting his gaze toward Capitano. His tone became somewhat less formal.

"Incidentally, Captain, I have one question that has no direct connection to the chemical composition of the substance."

"I'm listening."

"Why do you refuse to reveal your alibi?"

Pierro raised his eyes from his notes. Capitano did not answer immediately. He was accustomed to Dottore asking uncomfortable questions without much ceremony, but now the scholar was clearly displaying curiosity that went beyond the limits of the laboratory investigation.

"I believe that question has already been discussed with the Director."

"Undoubtedly. But I'm interested in the reason, not the official answer," Dottore remarked. "You must admit, it's rather strange to see someone voluntarily allow himself to remain under suspicion of murder when he claims he can confirm his whereabouts."

"In that case, I suggest we concentrate on finding the culprit, Doctor."

Dottore chuckled slightly, clearly unsatisfied with the answer.

"Of course. Although now I'm even more curious."

---

Pantalone joined the investigation after discrepancies were discovered in the deceased man's financial reports.

Velsky headed a commission responsible for overseeing major government expenditures, so his death inevitably required an examination of unfinished contracts. Pantalone personally requested information about transfers made during the previous few months and discovered several transactions that did not correspond to established procedures.

In particular, shortly before the reception, a considerable sum had been transferred from one contractor's account to the account of a little-known intermediary organization. In the documents, the transfer was designated as payment for repairs to the northern gallery of the Zapolyarny Palace, although the actual work in that area had been completed several years earlier. The amount was thirty-six thousand mora.

Pantalone asked the accounting department to investigate the recipient. It emerged that the organization had been registered relatively recently, and its official representative had never participated in government procurement. Even more interesting was the fact that some of the funds were subsequently distributed among several private accounts belonging to people connected with the palace administration.

At a closed meeting, Pantalone placed a folder of financial documents before Pierro.

"Our late Mr. Velsky was apparently involved in more than merely distributing government funds," he remarked with a polite smile. "Although I'm not yet prepared to claim that he was a direct participant in illegal operations."

Pierro carefully examined the report.

"Could the accounts have been used without his knowledge?"

"Theoretically. However, several transfers required personal confirmation from the chairman of the commission or his deputy."

"Have you established the final recipients?"

"Not all of them. But some of the names struck me as rather interesting."

Pantalone opened the next page and pointed to several lines marked in dark ink.

"One of the recipients is connected with the office responsible for registering official orders. Another is associated with the department that issues passes to restricted areas of the palace. Isn't that a rather fortunate coincidence for a man who was murdered on the grounds of the Zapolyarny Palace itself?"

Capitano took the documents and carefully examined the list of organizations.

"Are you suggesting that the murder is connected with an attempt to conceal embezzlement?"

"That is one possibility," Pantalone replied. "However, there is another. Perhaps someone used the financial transactions to arrange the circumstances necessary to accuse a particular person."

He carefully shifted his gaze toward the First Harbinger.

"For example, you."

Capitano did not change his posture.

"In that case, it is necessary to establish who had access to those accounts."

"Certainly," Pantalone agreed. "But I would like to clarify one more thing. Are you truly unable to name a single person who can confirm your whereabouts at the time of Velsky's death?"

The First Harbinger looked at him.

"I can."

Pantalone brightened noticeably.

"What a relief. Consequently, this entire unpleasant misunderstanding can be resolved considerably faster."

"I didn't say I intended to name that person."

Pantalone's smile grew a little wider.

"How curious."

Pierro, who had been watching the conversation, wearily set down his quill.

"Gentlemen, please return to the matter at hand."

---

By the end of the second day, the investigation had four versions of Capitano's whereabouts on the night of the murder.

The first appeared in the testimony of one of the servants. He claimed that at approximately ten thirty-seven, he had seen the First Harbinger near the corridor leading to Velsky's office. According to him, Capitano was standing beside a window, speaking with an unknown officer. The servant clearly remembered the heavy cloak and the characteristic shape of the armor, so he had no doubts about the man's identity.

When the investigator asked him to clarify how close he had been to the supposed First Harbinger, the servant admitted that he had observed the conversation from the opposite end of the corridor.

"But I know perfectly well what Lord Capitano looks like," the man insisted. "I've been working at the palace for several years."

"And did you see his face?" the investigator clarified.

The servant hesitated.

"No. He was wearing his helmet."

The second version was based on the western watchtower's register. According to the guard's entry, Capitano arrived there at ten forty-two, inspected the condition of the watch, and left the post shortly afterward. The First Harbinger's signature in the register looked convincing enough, although he himself denied having visited the tower.

The third appeared after the interrogation of one of the palace couriers. The man stated that at ten forty-nine, he had encountered Capitano near the southern archive, where the First Harbinger had supposedly inquired about the delivery of an urgent order. The courier could not explain why the First Harbinger had been in such a distant part of the palace, but insisted that he had clearly seen his face... or rather, his familiar helmet.

Capitano himself knew the fourth version.

From ten fifteen until approximately eleven o'clock, he had been with you in the northern observatory. You talked, drank tea, and spent time together, completely unaware that a murder was taking place in another part of the palace. You sat beside him, he embraced you by the waist, kissed you, and told stories about his youth. By all appearances, it had been a perfectly ordinary date between two people in love who preferred not to discuss their relationship with those around them.

Unlike the other three testimonies, this version was true.

And it was precisely this version that the First Harbinger stubbornly refused to reveal.

When Pierro received all the statements, he ordered a detailed map of the palace to be prepared, indicating the times and distances between the locations of the supposed encounters. The officers carried out the order and soon discovered an obvious contradiction: if the witnesses were to be believed, Capitano had managed to visit the corridor near Velsky's office, the western tower, and the southern archive within twelve minutes. Even moving at the greatest possible speed, covering all the distances in the specified order was practically impossible.

At the next meeting, the Director spread a map before those present.

"Someone is mistaken," he said, indicating the marked corridors. "Either the witnesses determined the time incorrectly, one of them saw another person, or the documents were deliberately altered."

Dottore carefully examined the diagram.

"Theoretically, one could suggest the use of an illusion or an artificial double. But we would need considerably more evidence for such a theory."

"Or someone simply forged the entries," Pantalone remarked. "That would have required far less effort."

Pierro shifted his gaze toward Capitano.

"There is also a fourth option. The Captain could reveal his actual whereabouts, after which we could verify the remaining testimonies."

The First Harbinger looked at the map for some time.

"I have already stated that I was in the northern part of the palace."

"Too large an area," the Director replied.

"I understand."

"You are deliberately complicating the investigation."

"Yes," Capitano admitted calmly.

Pantalone slowly set his documents aside. Dottore raised his head, clearly interested in the unexpectedly frank admission. Pierro, meanwhile, simply stared at the First Harbinger for some time, as though trying to make certain he had really said that aloud.

"Captain," the Director finally said with emphasized restraint. "You are suspected of possible involvement in the murder of a state official. I strongly recommend that you reconsider your attitude toward what is happening."

Capitano respectfully inclined his head.

"I am prepared to accept the necessary restrictions for the duration of the investigation. However, I will not disclose information that does not belong exclusively to me."

Dottore leaned back in his chair.

"Now I'm absolutely convinced that this has nothing to do with an official secret."

Pantalone looked at him with mild curiosity.

"You think so too?"

"The Captain has never had any particular difficulty explaining official circumstances. But his unusual caution regarding an unknown witness looks far more interesting."

The First Harbinger slowly turned his head toward them both.

"Doctor. Pantalone."

His tone was calm enough, but both understood the warning perfectly well.

---

Meanwhile, the rumors circulating at court were becoming increasingly unpleasant.

Some courtiers claimed that Velsky had been planning to accuse Capitano of illegally using government funds. Others suggested that the official had discovered information about a secret agreement between the First Harbinger and one of the influential aristocratic houses. Some even began connecting the murder with an attempt to change the distribution of power within the Fatui.

After the discovery of the letter addressed to you, more dangerous speculations also appeared. Some claimed that Velsky had intended to inform the princess about the First Harbinger's crimes. Others suggested that you might have witnessed a conflict. Several particularly curious courtiers even attempted to find out from your maids whether you had returned to your chambers immediately after the reception ended.

Capitano learned of this from the head of security. The First Harbinger immediately ordered the unofficial questioning of the servants to cease and demanded that all information concerning your movements be passed exclusively through Pierro's investigative team. He also insisted that none of the courtiers attempt to examine the personal correspondence of the Tsaritsa's daughter on their own initiative.

However, such measures only attracted additional attention to what was happening.

That evening, Capitano received an order from Pierro to appear at a closed session that would be personally presided over by the Tsaritsa. And the order separately specified that the princess's presence was also mandatory.

The First Harbinger looked at the document for a long time. For several days, he had been prepared to endure suspicion, interrogations, and even temporary removal from certain duties, if only he could avoid revealing the circumstances of your meetings without your consent. But now it was becoming clear that the investigation had reached a point where continuing to remain silent would be considerably more difficult.

Especially considering that your own mother intended to ask the questions.

---

Before the session, Capitano requested permission to meet with you.

You met in a small sitting room near your chambers. The room was well known to both of you: it was here that you sometimes talked in the evenings when the First Harbinger accompanied you after official events. However, this time the meeting took place under completely different circumstances. Two guards stood behind the door, investigators constantly passed through the corridors, and Capitano's very presence in the residential wing could already become the subject of additional questions.

He entered after your invitation and carefully closed the door. For some time, the First Harbinger simply looked at you, as though wanting to make certain that the ongoing investigation had not caused you too much distress.

"First of all, I want to apologize," he said, stopping beside an armchair. "I didn't anticipate that the events of that evening would put you in such a position."

"You couldn't have known that Velsky would be murdered at that exact time," you replied, approaching him. "And you're certainly not to blame for someone deciding to frame you."

Capitano removed his gloves and neatly placed them on a small table. He clearly wanted to come closer, but first glanced at the door, behind which the guards remained. Then he gently drew you toward him by the waist, allowing you to embrace him in return.

"Pierro has several testimonies that contradict one another. Furthermore, Velsky's letter could be used to make accusations not only against me, but against you as well."

"I know," you replied quietly, embracing him more tightly. "But what worries me much more is that they might accuse you of murder simply because we decided to spend an evening together."

Capitano gently stroked your back. His embrace was as firm and familiar as always, but now there was a certain tension in it. He understood perfectly well how serious the situation was and did not want the necessity of protecting his reputation to force you into making hasty decisions.

"I am not going to ask you to reveal our relationship for the sake of clearing my name," he said quietly. "Especially in front of your mother and the entire investigative council."

"But if I remain silent, they'll continue suspecting you."

"Possibly," the First Harbinger admitted, gently touching his lips to your temple. "However, I don't want you to feel obliged to tell everyone about us merely because of the circumstances of this investigation."

He paused briefly, considering his own words.

"But I have no intention of allowing them to accuse you of a crime you did not commit, either."

You pulled away slightly to look at him.

"You understand that Mom will find out eventually anyway?"

"Of course," he replied, holding you by the waist. "I simply hoped that I could speak with her privately first. Preferably without a judicial commission present."

"And what would you tell her?"

Capitano considered the question. Usually, he was perfectly capable of preparing official speeches and diplomatic addresses, but explaining his own romantic intentions to the ruler of Snezhnaya seemed a much more complicated matter.

"That I love you," he finally said with complete composure, gently touching your cheek. "And that I intend to treat our relationship with all the seriousness it deserves."

You fell silent for a few moments before rising onto your toes and kissing him. Capitano responded immediately, leaning down gently and holding you closer. When you pulled apart, he briefly rested his forehead against yours, continuing to support you by the waist.

"That sounds very beautiful," you remarked quietly. "But I think Mom will still ask you a thousand questions."

"In that case, I'll answer a thousand questions," the First Harbinger said. "Although I would prefer that none of them concern our kisses in the observatory."

You couldn't help laughing.

"Do you think she'll ask?"

"I sincerely hope not."

For some time, you remained in each other's arms. Capitano gently moved his palm along your back, and when you leaned toward him again, he returned the brief kiss with the same tenderness he allowed himself only behind closed doors. He wanted to remain here considerably longer, but ahead of you lay a session that could affect not only his reputation but also the future course of the investigation.

The First Harbinger gently took your hand.

"If necessary, I am prepared to tell the truth myself. However, I would first like to know your opinion. This concerns both of us."

He inclined his head slightly.

"And I must admit that the circumstances of our possible confession have turned out somewhat less romantic than I imagined."

A barely perceptible irony entered the First Harbinger's voice. He had already imagined how one day he would approach the Tsaritsa with a request to discuss your relationship, carefully choose his words, and calmly explain his intentions. Now, however, he would probably have to say something of the sort in the presence of the Director of the Fatui, judicial officials, two Harbingers, and several armed guards.

Capitano sighed gently.

"I believe next time we should choose the circumstances under which your mother learns about our situation much more carefully."

"Assuming she'll even allow us to meet without supervision after tonight," you remarked with a smile.

The First Harbinger considered the matter briefly before answering.

"In that case, I'll have to officially request permission for every date."

"Even for a kiss?"

"I very much hope it won't come to that," he replied, gently touching his lips to your forehead.

He allowed himself a brief pause before adding more seriously:

"In any case, I'll remain beside you. Whatever you decide to say today."

---

The closed session began at eight o'clock in the evening.

The great council hall was located in the central part of the Zapolyarny Palace. Its high ceiling was supported by massive columns, lamps burning with cold bluish flames lined the walls, and seats for the members of the investigative commission stood around a long table. At the far end of the room was a raised platform intended for the Tsaritsa.

On ordinary days, government sessions were held here, diplomatic matters were discussed, and decisions concerning Snezhnaya's military policy were made. However, today the atmosphere was considerably more tense. Documents concerning Velsky's murder, diagrams of the palace corridors, witness statements, and financial reports prepared by Pantalone lay on the table.

The Tsaritsa was already in the hall when you arrived. Your mother sat on the raised platform, carefully examining a small folder. Her face remained calm, but everyone present understood perfectly well that the murder of a high-ranking official directly inside the palace had been an extremely unpleasant event for her. Especially considering that the main suspect was a man to whom she had entrusted command over the most important military units.

Pierro stood beside the table of documents. Dottore had positioned himself a little farther away, examining the results of his laboratory research, while Pantalone quietly spoke with one of the secretaries checking the financial records. Several officers awaited the beginning of the session near the doors.

When Capitano entered with you, the conversations gradually died away. The First Harbinger stopped at the appropriate distance and respectfully inclined his head.

"Your Majesty."

The Tsaritsa raised her eyes from the documents.

"Capitano. Come in."

Then she looked at you.

"And you too, my dear. We have several rather unpleasant circumstances to discuss."

"I understand, Mom," you replied, taking the offered seat.

Capitano remained standing nearby, maintaining his customary military posture. From the outside, he appeared completely calm, although he understood perfectly well that today might be the day your secret ceased to be a secret.

Pierro began the session with a brief account of the circumstances of Velsky's death. He listed the main results of the investigation, described the discovered letter, reported the financial violations, and explained the contradictions between the witness statements.

The Tsaritsa listened attentively without interrupting, only occasionally asking clarifying questions. When the Director finished, she examined the palace diagram for some time, on which the First Harbinger's supposed movements had been marked.

"So," she finally said. "According to the information presented, Capitano was simultaneously near the deceased man's office, at the western tower, and beside the southern archive."

Pierro respectfully inclined his head.

"The testimonies refer to different minutes, Your Majesty, but the distances between the specified locations do indeed raise doubts."

The Tsaritsa shifted her gaze toward Capitano.

"You possess very impressive abilities, First Harbinger. But even I did not imagine that you had learned to be in several parts of my palace at once."

Pantalone lowered his eyes to the documents. Dottore managed to maintain a serious expression with visible effort. Capitano, meanwhile, respectfully inclined his head.

"I cannot claim such an achievement, Your Majesty."

An awkward silence arose in the hall for a moment. The Tsaritsa closed the folder.

"Then explain where you actually were."

Capitano felt that every gaze had turned toward him.

"In the northern wing of the palace."

"I have already read that in your statement."

Your mother leaned forward slightly.

"In which room exactly?"

The First Harbinger remained silent for several seconds. He could easily name the observatory, but understood perfectly well what question would follow immediately afterward.

"In one of the rooms of the old gallery, Your Majesty."

The Tsaritsa looked at him with an expression suggesting that she had heard not an answer, but an attempt to test her patience.

"Capitano."

"Your Majesty?"

"I am asking you about a specific room."

Pierro cautiously intervened.

"The Captain has already informed the investigation that the circumstances of his presence in the northern wing concern the interests of another person."

The Tsaritsa slowly turned her head toward him.

"Another person?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Your mother looked at the First Harbinger again.

"Who was with you?"

Capitano straightened. He involuntarily remembered your meeting before the session, your words, and his own promise not to reveal the relationship without your consent.

"I ask that you allow me not to name that person for the time being."

The Tsaritsa remained silent for some time. Pierro, apparently, had already begun regretting that he had failed to obtain more detailed explanations before the session began. Dottore watched what was happening with obvious interest, while Pantalone slowly set down his quill, as though afraid of missing some particularly entertaining detail.

"You refuse to tell me the name of a witness who could confirm your alibi?" the Tsaritsa clarified.

"I am prepared to explain the circumstances of my presence in the northern wing, Your Majesty. However, I would prefer not to do so without first obtaining the consent of..."

Capitano stopped, carefully choosing the next word.

"...the party concerned."

The Tsaritsa raised an eyebrow.

"The party concerned?"

Pantalone discreetly covered his mouth with his hand. Dottore turned toward him, and the two exchanged glances for a moment. Pierro continued looking at the documents with the expression of a man who would have preferred to be somewhere else entirely.

Meanwhile, the Tsaritsa was clearly losing patience.

"Capitano, I understand perfectly well the necessity of maintaining the confidentiality of certain military operations. However, you are under suspicion of murdering a state official. If your alibi is connected with official activity, you must provide the relevant documents."

"This is not connected with official activity, Your Majesty."

After those words, the silence became even more noticeable. The Tsaritsa slowly set aside the folder.

"I see."

Capitano did not move.

"Consequently, on the night of the murder, you were in a restricted part of the palace for personal reasons."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"And you were not alone."

"Correct."

Your mother looked at him for some time. Then her gaze unexpectedly moved toward you, sitting nearby.

"How curious."

Capitano stood completely motionless beside the table. The Tsaritsa addressed him again.

"I hope you understand that such secrecy is doing absolutely nothing to help your position."

"I understand, Your Majesty."

"Then name the person with whom you spent the evening."

The First Harbinger made a barely perceptible movement, as though about to answer, but stopped. For the first time during the entire session, he allowed himself to look at you, and although his face was concealed by his helmet, it was perfectly clear to you what he was thinking.

Only a few days earlier, the worst situation you could imagine had involved the Tsaritsa accidentally seeing you kissing in the garden. Now, however, your secret romantic life had become the subject of an official murder investigation, and your mother was demanding a detailed explanation of the evening's circumstances in the presence of Pierro, Dottore, Pantalone, and several witnesses.

And the most unpleasant part was that confessing really could help Capitano.

You finally decided to intervene.

"Mom, I don't think Capitano should remain under suspicion simply because he doesn't want to discuss personal circumstances," you said, feeling the attention of everyone else in the room upon you.

The Tsaritsa looked at you attentively.

"You apparently know somewhat more about these circumstances than the investigative commission does?"

You fell silent for a moment.

"I know he didn't kill Velsky."

Pierro raised his head from the documents.

"Your Highness, can you confirm that?"

Capitano carefully turned toward you. He was clearly prepared to intervene if the questions became too insistent, but he still did not want to answer in your place.

"I can confirm that he has an alibi," you replied, trying not to look toward the First Harbinger for too long.

The Tsaritsa slowly folded her hands.

"Then, my dear, why didn't you inform us of this earlier?"

The question proved considerably more complicated than it might have seemed at first glance. You understood perfectly well that any explanation could now lead to the revelation of your relationship.

---

However, before the First Harbinger could make a decision, Pantalone cautiously raised his hand.

"Your Majesty, if you permit me, I would like to draw attention to one circumstance."

The Tsaritsa shifted her gaze toward him.

"Speak."

Pantalone rose, took the financial folder from the table, and opened it to a page containing several highlighted transfers.

"During the examination of Velsky's accounts, an interesting transaction was discovered. Shortly before the murder, one of the organizations connected with his commission transferred funds to individuals who have access to the palace registers and passes."

"What does that have to do with Capitano's alibi?" the Tsaritsa asked.

"The most direct connection. You see, one of the recipients had the ability to make changes to the western tower's register. Another could obtain information about the routes taken by palace couriers."

Pantalone placed a small financial statement before the Director.

"Consequently, at least two of the three testimonies could have been prepared in advance. Furthermore, the recipients of the money had the necessary authority to do so."

Pierro carefully examined the document.

"Are you certain of the funds' origin?"

"Completely. The transfers passed through several intermediaries, but I managed to reconstruct their sequence."

Dottore raised his head from his notes.

"Then a very interesting question arises. If someone deliberately created several false testimonies, why didn't they limit themselves to just one?"

Pierro considered the question.

"To create contradictions. Perhaps the organizer expected that the Captain would be forced to reveal his actual whereabouts."

Capitano slowly turned his head toward the Director. The thought was unpleasant, but reasonable. If someone knew about your meetings, such a scheme might represent not merely an attempt to accuse the First Harbinger of murder, but a way to force him to publicly reveal his relationship with the Tsaritsa's daughter.

You also noticed that possibility.

"So someone could have deliberately forged the testimonies to force us to say where we were?" you asked, not immediately noticing that you had used the plural in your last words.

Capitano turned his head slightly in your direction. Pierro fell silent for a moment, while Pantalone looked at you attentively over the documents.

"That is one of the theories, Your Highness," the Director replied, clearly noting the unusual phrasing.

Pantalone cautiously continued:

"And here, we should return to the letter discovered in Velsky's office. Its contents suggest that the deceased official possessed information of a personal nature concerning the Captain and Her Highness."

The Tsaritsa turned toward you. Capitano involuntarily tensed.

"My daughter?" the ruler clarified.

"Precisely, Your Majesty," Pantalone confirmed. "Furthermore, the letter was written in such a way as to create the impression that Velsky intended to discuss this information immediately before his death."

Dottore placed the laboratory report on the table.

"I would also add that the traces of the toxic substance on the envelope do not allow us to exclude the possibility that it was deliberately placed among the deceased man's documents. Especially if the goal was to draw the investigation's attention to the letter."

The Tsaritsa examined the papers for some time before looking at Capitano again.

"So, we have several questionable testimonies, suspicious financial transfers, and a letter addressed to my daughter."

She slowly folded her hands.

"And yet the First Harbinger still refuses to reveal where he was at the time of the murder."

Capitano respectfully inclined his head.

"I am prepared to provide the necessary explanations, Your Majesty."

"Excellent," the Tsaritsa replied. "Then begin."

The First Harbinger did not speak immediately. He understood perfectly well that further silence could only strengthen the suspicions, but at the same time, he did not want to turn your relationship into the subject of official discussion without your consent.

Your mother watched him for some time before unexpectedly addressing Pierro.

"Director, summon the secretary."

Pierro carried out the order, and a minute later, one of the servants entered the hall with a blank record sheet.

"Write this down," the Tsaritsa said. "The First Harbinger confirms that he spent the evening in the northern wing of the palace for personal reasons, in the company of an unknown individual whose identity he refuses to reveal."

The secretary began writing. Capitano, apparently for the first time that evening, experienced a perfectly sincere desire to be somewhere on the northern border, preferably in the middle of a particularly lengthy military campaign.

Dottore discreetly turned toward Pantalone.

"I wonder how much longer it will take before we learn the name of this mysterious lady," he whispered.

"I believe not very long," Pantalone replied just as quietly, watching how the First Harbinger carefully avoided looking toward the princess.

Pierro heard them both.

"Gentlemen," he said in a warning tone, without looking away from the documents.

Both immediately fell silent.

---

The Tsaritsa addressed Capitano once again.

"I will ask you this question one last time. Who exactly were you with in the northern wing?"

Silence settled over the hall. The secretary stopped writing, the officers near the doors stood motionless, and Pierro slowly set down the folder of statements. Even Dottore refrained from making any remarks this time.

Capitano looked at you. Only for a moment. But that was enough for the Tsaritsa to notice.

The ruler slowly shifted her gaze from the First Harbinger to her own daughter, then back again. She remained silent for some time, as though comparing what she had heard with the circumstances of the past few months: Capitano's frequent appearances near your chambers, unexpected walks in the palace gardens, and numerous occasions when the two of you had, apparently by complete coincidence, found yourselves in exactly the same place.

Her expression gradually changed.

"Capitano," she said much more slowly now. "You aren't about to tell me that this unknown witness..."

The First Harbinger carefully straightened.

"Your Majesty, I would like to..."

The Tsaritsa raised her hand, stopping him.

"Wait."

She turned toward you. Pantalone slowly lowered his gaze to his own documents, although from the barely perceptible movement of his shoulders, one might have assumed that what was happening was providing him with a certain amount of enjoyment. Dottore, on the other hand, watched the scene quite openly, as though he had just been given the opportunity to witness a particularly interesting experiment.

Pierro closed his eyes for a brief moment.

Capitano stood with such impeccable military bearing that one might have thought he was preparing to receive an order to depart immediately for the front. However, even his customary composure could not entirely conceal the fact that the First Harbinger would probably have preferred to face an entire enemy army rather than discuss his own romantic relationship under such circumstances.

Your mother looked at you attentively.

"My dear."

There was neither irritation nor mockery in her voice. For some reason, that made the situation even more awkward.

"You do understand what I'm about to ask, don't you?"

You felt Capitano carefully turn toward you, waiting to see how you would decide to answer.

"Mom, I can explain everything," you said, although you yourself had no idea where it would be best to begin.

The First Harbinger finally decided to intervene.

"Your Majesty, please allow me to take responsibility for..."

"Capitano," the Tsaritsa interrupted calmly. "I haven't asked the question yet."

The First Harbinger immediately fell silent.

For several seconds, the ruler carefully examined both of you. Then her gaze stopped on the folder of statements, where the estimated time of the murder was indicated. She looked at you again, as though she had finally realized the sheer absurdity of what was happening.

"Am I correct in understanding that my daughter was with you that evening?"

Capitano did not answer. The Tsaritsa slowly raised an eyebrow.

"And in the closed observatory, at that."

The First Harbinger carefully inclined his head. Pierro turned toward him almost imperceptibly, clearly surprised by how easily the Tsaritsa had independently reconstructed circumstances that the investigation had unsuccessfully attempted to establish for several days.

Your mother looked at both of you for some time before sighing wearily.

"Remarkable."

She leaned back in her chair.

"One of my most trusted commanders is under suspicion of murder. The investigation has contradictory testimonies, government funds have been transferred through questionable organizations, and a potentially exonerating witness has been sitting directly in front of us this entire time."

The Tsaritsa looked at Capitano again.

"And you preferred to allow half the palace to consider you a murderer rather than explain why you were alone with my daughter?"

The First Harbinger remained silent for some time. He understood that his answer, however carefully worded, would no longer be able to completely conceal what was happening.

"I did not want to reveal the circumstances of our private life without her consent, Your Majesty."

After those words, the silence became almost tangible. Pantalone slowly raised his head, Dottore looked at Capitano with entirely genuine interest, and Pierro very carefully closed the folder lying before him.

The Tsaritsa simply stared at the First Harbinger for several seconds.

"Our?" she repeated.

Capitano froze. Only now, apparently, did he realize just how openly his last sentence had sounded. For the first time in many years, the First Harbinger found himself in a position where it was impossible to correct a mistake through a diplomatic explanation, a military order, or even the most carefully prepared report.

The Tsaritsa slowly shifted her gaze toward you.

"I believe I really should hear your version of what happened."

Capitano carefully turned toward you. Despite all the awkwardness of the situation, he still had no intention of making the decision for you. He could confirm that you had been together, tell them about your evening, and even openly confess his feelings if circumstances demanded it. But he wanted to decide which details of your relationship would become known to the investigation only together with you.

Meanwhile, the murder investigation was still far from complete. Even if you confirmed each other's alibis, it would still be necessary to discover who had forged the records, why money had been transferred to administrative employees, how Velsky had received the fatal dose of poison, and why the letter supposedly addressed to you had ended up among his papers. Furthermore, the very existence of several false testimonies now suggested an unpleasant possibility: someone might have known about your secret meetings in advance and deliberately used that information to force you to reveal your relationship before the Tsaritsa.

The First Harbinger slowly approached your chair, stopping at the appropriate distance. His voice became quieter, although in the enormous hall, every word could still be heard distinctly.

"Your Highness..." he began, but then paused briefly and carefully adjusted the strap on his glove. "I believe we now have an opportunity to clarify the circumstances of that evening."

Dottore gave an almost inaudible snort, Pantalone lowered his gaze to the documents again, and the Tsaritsa folded her hands and looked attentively at both of you.

"Well then," she finally said. "I'm listening."

Capitano leaned a little closer toward you. His voice, now intended exclusively for you, sounded unusually gentle against the background of the tense session.

"As you wish," he said quietly. "I can tell them everything myself. But if you prefer, we'll answer together."

He lingered beside you for another moment before straightening. There was still a certain awkwardness in his voice, but now it was accompanied by an almost imperceptible determination: whatever happened next, he had no intention of renouncing either the truth or you.

And the Tsaritsa, watching the First Harbinger address her daughter with a tenderness he had never before allowed himself during official meetings, slowly raised an eyebrow.

"And, Capitano?"

The First Harbinger turned toward her.

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"After we finish investigating Velsky's murder, you and I are going to have another conversation."

Capitano respectfully inclined his head.

"Of course, Your Majesty."

The Tsaritsa looked at you.

"But first, I would like to hear exactly what happened in the northern observatory between ten fifteen and eleven o'clock in the evening."

And now, the decision truly remained yours.