The horse's hooves beat a steady tempo into the mud. The muck stuck to hoof and fur up to the knee, hiding the natural color beneath a ruddy brown. Above the knee, the horse was pale, and had the horse been clean, it would've shone a brilliant white. The rider sat in stark contrast, garbed in a black that seemed to wrap itself around him, apparently impervious to the heat. The hood of his cloak hung low over deep, sea-blue eyes, and thin lips formed a tight line. As the muted tempo turned to a rhythmic tapping, the rider looked up.

The dirt trail had become a cobbled-stone road as the gates of a town loomed ahead. The guards moved to stop this traveler of unknown identity, and the rider drew back his head to reveal pale skin, dark hair, and the shadow of a beard on his lean face. The guards froze, then bowed, allowing him to pass as a runner was sent up the hill to let the duke know Master Dyrn had returned.

As he rode slowly through the city, he was surprised by how little the war seemed to have affected the town. The blacksmith made spades and swords in equal measure, the bakery made more food than normal in the form of hard-tack, and the tavern was especially busy. Here, the war was little more than a distant rumor, good for profit and talk, but hardly real. As Dyrn approached the keep, the guards saluted and allowed him to pass. A stable hand appeared to take his horse when he dismounted, but he saw no one as he traveled through the foyer to stand in the antechamber to the main hall. His patience had just begun to wear thin when the door opened, he was announced, and he walked in to stand before the Duke and bow.

"I thought you were on the frontlines, serving the family well in the war," the Duke's tone was even, but still the disappointment edged into his voice.

"I was, father, but have received orders to return to the capital, and I stopped here to make some preparations. The king believes Kvothe lives."

The duke nodded, rose from his chair, and left the room. The meeting was over, Dyrn was not given the courtesy of a proper dismissal.

"It's good to have you back, Master Dyrn. We can change game night to tomorrow, if you are able to join us." The butler spoke with a great kindness, as if to make right every wrong done to Dyrn, and the darkness that had held him the last span finally broke, and Dyrn smiled.

f you really wish to lose so soon, why not keep it tonight, Torval?"

"I believe there are… other matters which require your more immediate attention, sir." The butler bowed, returning the smile. "Your workshop has been well taken care of, and you should probably address its caretaker first." Torval winked and turned to rush after the duke, leaving Dyrn in the hall alone.

After a moment, he walked out at a determinedly unhurried pace. Especially at home, appearance was everything. It took him a few minutes to walk through the keep to the side entrance, where a rocky path lead to a low warehouse nestled against the mountain bordering one side of the keep. A light glowed warmly within, and Dyrn couldn't help but smile. He took the pendant from his neck and touched it to the door where a keyhole should have been. After a soft click, he turned the handle and quietly opened the door.

The room was circular, with a small table and some chairs in the center. To Dyrn's left, a bookshelf hugged the wall, stopping a short distance from a self-emptying chamber pot and a tub. Opposite the door sat a large bed whose headboard touched the side of the mountain. Past the bed, more bookshelves ran to a door centered on the right half of the room. Between the doors sat a hearth, and in front of the hearth sat a couch.

He apparently hadn't made enough noise to disturb the occupant of the couch. A sympathy lamp suspended over her shoulder shed light onto the pages of the open book in her hands, a copy of one used in the Medica. Steady shadows from the lamp and flickering shadows from the fire in the hearth played tricks on the eyes and stirred the imagination as they highlighted her every curve. Careful not to make a sound, Dyrn moved around the edges of the room, moving closer to the couch as he drew behind it. Careful not to cast a shadow, he rose up behind the couch's occupant and, with a quick rush planted a kiss on her cheek.

Or at least, he expected it to be her cheek. Instead, she had turned her face at the last moment to lock lips with him, though he would not rationalize this turn of events for a few moments. For a while they stayed there, lost in the kiss, until she drew back, and he stood up.

"You didn't make the lock quiet enough, love," she said with a smile as she rolled to a seated position.

"Kayda, my dear, you are simply too perceptive," he smiled back as he moved around to join her on the couch. Before he could sit, however, she stood and shooed him away from it.

"I perceive," she said wryly, "that you have been too long on the road without a bath." She began undressing him, then, when he had taken over, moved to start the tap that fed water to a tub.

"I expected you to want me undressed quickly, but not like this," he chuckled, loud enough to be heard over the tap.

You have to smell good before I let you into the bed.

"You do remember it is my bed, right," he teased, making his way to the bath as he let his undergarments fall to the floor.

"You don't want to sleep in it alone, do you?" she retorted with a snicker, watching him walk by with an appreciative stare. He stepped into the bath and sunk till he was completely submerged, then sat upright. Kayda moved behind him and started to wash his back as she spoke. "Not that I'm complaining, but you're back a lot earlier than we expected."

"The new King believes that Kvothe lives, and I've been sent to hunt him down."

"But why you?" She finished his back and started scrubbing his now outstretched arms.

"The order didn't say. Perhaps the he wishes to send an arcanist after an arcanist. Perhaps he heard we went to university together. Perhaps he's pulled names from his crown." She finished his arms as he finished his musing, and he spun around a bit too quickly, grabbing the soap, snatching a kiss, and splashing her with water.

"If this was your plan to get me undressed as well, you're spoiling your own fun," she stood and walked back toward Dyrn's pile of clothes, moving them to a basket and removing her own to toss on the pile. "What else hasn't he told you?" Fully undressed, she turned back to the tub where Dyrn now stood to wash his lower half. He looked up as he started to answer but froze as she walked back toward him.

"A-anything, really," he stuttered when she reached him and pushed his head back towards his own body. "I know who I'm hunting, I have been told to prepare myself for the hunt, and I have been ordered to present myself to the king in three span for inspection." He finished his scrub down, albeit hurriedly, ducked into the water one last time and stepped out of the tub.

"Then I'll have to make the most of the next two span." Kayda used a towel to dry him off, slowly maneuvering him toward the bed. As they reached the edge, she tossed aside the towel, pushed him onto the bed, and they lost themselves in each other's arms as only young lovers could.