The next dawn, a knock on my door wakes me up.

  I open the door to find Baz standing there, arms crossed, looking dead serious.

  “We need to fix this,” he says immediately. His voice is clipped like he’s been thinking about this all night.

  I blink, still groggy. Fix what?

  “I need to teach you sign nguage.”

  That wakes me up fast.

  “You can’t keep relying on people to guess what you’re thinking, Felicia.” His eyes flicker with something between frustration and concern. “It’s not for you. It’s for all of us.”

  Before I can respond, another voice chimes in.

  “Count me in.”

  Dominic steps forward, appearing from the shadows like he’s always been there. His expression is determined, but the resolve in his voice is unmistakable.

  I rub my chin, exhaling. So they’re really doing this, huh?

  I nod.

  The following dawns, they come early—every single morning—to practice with me.

  At first, it’s strange. Awkward. But I notice something.

  I’m not blocked from this form of communication.

  Estin left a loophole.

  For the first time in a long while, something stirs in my chest.

  Maybe—just maybe—I can still be heard.

  I.

  You.

  Run.

  Fight.

  Protect.

  Words that are essentials, necessities.

  Rest.

  Heal.

  Read.

  Teach.

  Surrender.

  Agree.

  We even create a special sign for Grant. Baz finds it hirious.

  Dominic grabs Mop in to learn as well.

  We also create specific signs for different nations.

  And then, we go further.

  A sign for Gustaff.

  A sign for Vivi.

  A sign for our enemies.

  A sign for our home.

  One by one, the world becomes something I can touch again.

  But some things remain out of reach.

  Grant is still traveling between the two rooms—Sharon’s and Ellina’s. Always moving, always watching over them, like constant motion will change what’s already done.

  When I’m with Grant, Dominic teaches Mop words.

  I asked him to.

  Because I’m not the only one who needs to overcome a nguage barrier.

  Mop is learning to speak. Grant is learning to act. And I—

  I am learning to be heard.

  But not everyone is finding their voice.

  Baz has been meeting with the Legion. Every time he comes out, his shoulders seem a little heavier, his steps a little slower. He always jokes about it, but the humor doesn’t reach his eyes.

  He doesn’t tell us much.

  But I can feel it.

  Something is coming.

  Still, for now, I let the rare opportunity for everyone to rest linger.

  Because moments like these don’t st.

  Starting from one night, Benica and Mop join me for Shin practice.

  “I want to be more useful to the team,” Benica says, rolling back her sleeves.

  “Mop wants good.”

  The drunk warden is finally stepping up her game.

  And underneath all the drinking and recklessness—she’s strong.

  She fights with a mace, relying on raw strength more than Shin mastery. If she ever faced Ellina in an Honor Duel, she’d win. No doubt.

  Not because she’s faster. Not because she’s more skilled.

  But because she is physically stronger.

  If she improves her Shin mastery, she could become a valuable asset to the team.

  “If I had been stronger during the fight, Grant would have already left the cavern.”

  Her voice is steady. She has given this thought.

  “It’s my fault you’re hurt.”

  I tap her lightly on the head—a silent approval of her growth.

  The next day…

  “Sharon is awake!”

  Baz bursts into our rooms, shouting.

  We rush to see her.

  Sharon is already sitting up, sipping hot soup.

  Obelius rises to his feet as we enter.

  “I’ll let you have the room.”

  He leaves fast.

  Sharon looks up at us, smiling. “Hi, guys.”

  Grant doesn’t answer. He drops to his knees beside her bed.

  Tears spill over before he can stop them. “I’m sorry.”

  His voice cracks. His shoulders shake.

  Sharon gently runs her fingers through his hair.

  “It’s alright, big guy.”

  Baz sits on a chair, leaning back, crossing his arms casually.

  “I miss your wisdom,” he jokes, trying to lighten the air.

  Sharon smiles softly. “I missed you too.”

  Before she can say more, Mop and Benica leap onto the bed, wrapping her in a hug.

  “Mop likes Sharon!” Mop chirps, squeezing her tightly.

  Benica grins. “Welcome back!”

  ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

  Later that night, we gather for a celebration.

  Sharon is still a little weak, but she sits comfortably, wrapped in a warm bnket, a steaming cup of tea in her hands.

  “Alright, let’s get you up to speed.”

  Baz starts recounting everything that happened since the battle with Gustaff—the chaos, the rescue, the aftermath.

  Grant sits nearby, quieter than usual, his fingers tapping against the table as if still processing everything.

  Sharon’s gaze sweeps over us, a knowing warmth in her eyes. “You guys really can’t survive without me, huh?”

  Baz ughs. “We manage. Barely.”

  Grant clears his throat. “I have something to say.”

  Everyone turns to him. His tone is different—steadier, more resolved.

  “We should go to Uxiospea.”

  Silence.

  “What?!”

  The room erupts. Benica nearly drops her cup. Baz stares like he misheard.

  Sharon frowns, setting her tea down. “Grant… are you serious?”

  Grant exhales, his grip tightening around his cup. “After working with Ellina on this mission, yes. Instead of wasting time learning Tianese, I’d rather go somewhere I can trust and communicate.”

  “I thought you hated her,” Sharon asks, tilting her head.

  “Well, I won the duel, so… I don’t hate her anymore.”

  He blushes slightly.

  Sharon’s expression turns sour. She exhales, setting her tea down with just a little too much care.

  “So that’s what it is…”

  Her voice is quieter now—almost unhearable.

  Grant frowns. “What? What do you mean?”

  Sharon lifts her cup to her lips, eyes distant.

  “Nothing,” Sharon says, voice clipped.

  She leans back, crossing her arms. “Forget it.”

  But Baz understands.

  Sharon hums, her fingers tapping against her cup. “Uxiospea, huh? Fine. Then tell me—what’s your actual pn when we get there?”

  Grant blinks. “What do you mean?”

  “What are you offering them in return? Or are you hoping Ellina’s just gonna convince them for you?”

  “Yes?”

  “How?” Baz cuts in.

  Grant straightens. “I’m going to ask her out.”

  Silence.

  Baz chokes on his drink. Sharon doesn’t move. Benica is interested in the gossip.

  “As you said, a political alliance is the best strategy. If I can secure the retionship, we’ll have a huge bargaining advantage for the throne.”

  Sharon stays still, but her fingers tighten around her cup.

  “…I see.”

  Both Baz and Sharon sink into a quiet disappointment.

  Baz exhales sharply, rubbing his cheek. “So that’s your pn? Romance as a bargaining chip?”

  Sharon’s grip on her cup doesn’t loosen. She doesn’t look at Grant. “That’s… pragmatic.”

  “Right?” Grant perks up, mistaking her tone for approval.

  But before he can say more, Dominic, who had been silent until now, suddenly speaks up.

  “And how exactly are you going to do that,” he says dryly, “if Empress de Nova takes her back before you even get the chance?”

  Grant crosses his arms. “We can still go there first. They already know us.”

  Baz exhales sharply, finally losing his patience. “This is a bad pn.”

  “The Legion isn’t going to let us go unless another nation is willing to bail us out.” He leans forward, frustration clear in his voice. “And if Ellina is taken back before she even wakes up, we’ll be stuck here—alone—with the court. And they are coming!”

  Grant opens his mouth to argue, but Baz isn’t finished.

  “Even if she does wake up,” Baz continues, eyes sharp, “How are you so sure your retionship will work?”

  Grant narrows his eyes, confused. “You want it not to work?”

  Baz hesitates. His usual sharp wit falters, just for a moment.

  “…No.”

  But there’s something unspoken in his voice. Almost as if he wants to say maybe.

  “Then what are we even arguing about? Do we have a better pn? The Legion is dead set on the court thing. We don’t have outside support. She’s our best bet.”

  Baz exhales, rubbing his temples. “I can… try to contact my master…”

  Grant scoffs. “The one who’s pissed at you for serving Omenmia? Why would he help?”

  Baz presses his fingers to his forehead, clearly annoyed. “I said I can try.”

  Grant crosses his arms. “And I’m saying it’s a long shot. Meanwhile, Ellina is already an in.”

  Baz scowls. “An in? You make it sound like she’s a bargaining chip.”

  “So what?” Grant shrugs. “Trust me, I know gambling better than you do. She is a chip. I can tell.”

  Baz doesn’t reply immediately. He just watches Grant—like he’s waiting for him to catch up to something he hasn’t realized yet.

  Sharon, silent until now, finally speaks.

  “And what if she says no?” Her voice is steady. Even

  Grant flinches. “Then… we figure something else out.”

  Sharon’s fingers tap against her cup. “I see.”

  No one says what they’re actually thinking.

  I stand up.

  And sign, “Try. Both.”

  Grant blinks, confused. “What does that mean?” He wasn’t brought up to speed with this.

  Dominic answers for me, his voice calm. “Try both. I agree. Both are long shots. The winner takes it all.”

  Grant considers this. Then, with a small smirk, he extends his hand toward Baz. “So… game on, Baz. Winner takes it all.”

  Baz exhales sharply, eyes narrowing, but he reaches out. Their hands csp.

  “Fine.”

  The deal is made.

  Grant exhales, rolling his shoulders like he’s shaking off the weight of the argument. “Alright, who’s on my team?” He smiles like this is just another friendly wager.

  “What?” Baz chokes.

  “Both pns need support, right?” Grant gestures vaguely. “We might as well divide up now.”

  “I’ll be on your team,” Benica pitches in excitedly.

  “I’ll be on Felicia’s team,” Dominic states evenly.

  Grant scoffs. “That’s not a choice.”

  “It’s Felicia’s choice.” Dominic doesn’t even blink.

  “Fine,” Grant huffs, turning his gaze to Mop. “Mop?”

  She hesitates, gncing between Baz and Grant. Her small hands fidget. She looks at me.

  I sign: Choose for yourself.

  Mop swallows, then straightens. “Grant.”

  Baz raises a brow. “Really?”

  Mop nods quickly, then clutches Grant’s sleeve like she’s making sure she won’t be abandoned for choosing him.

  Sharon sighs, shifting in her chair. “I’ll join Grant, too. I can’t move far yet.”

  Baz exhales sharply. “You, too?”

  She meets his gaze, something unspoken passing between them. Then she looks away.

  Baz rubs his temples. “Alright. Who’s on my team?”

  I raise my hand.

  “What?” Grant stares at me for a moment, shocked by the maid betraying him.

  Then he shrugs. “Well, a game is a game. Then this is settled.”

  The room doesn’t feel like a game.

  But for now, no one says otherwise.