Flavia treated them to lunch, with Basilio mumbling about his failure and Morgan being the happiest of the Mini Shepherds, who was also the second happiest person overall (with the first happiest person being Flavia). At least he was a good sport about defeats—only Robin's son could twist a loss into a victory, in some form or another.
Once lunch was said and done, half of the group went back and the other half stayed in town. Well, it was roughly half, anyway—Malin, Morgan, Owain, Cynthia, and Brady stayed in town. Flavia, Basilio, Lucina, Laurent, Kjelle, and Marth went back. Lon'qu never came because there were too much women around for his liking.
Malin wandered around for a little bit before finding Morgan and his friends. The kid was probably better at being optimistic than Malin was, back in his day; no surprises there, since Morgan had more to be happy about. Family, no war experience, sibling memories (both good and bad alike)…
He spent a too long thinking on it, because Morgan noticed him before he said anything.
"Oh! Malin!" Morgan went over to him, with his friends a little further behind. "Did you need something?"
"Yes, actually," Malin replied. "Wanna walk back with me?"
"Sure!" Morgan said. He turned back to Owain, Cynthia, and Brady. "Is that okay?"
"I'm not Lucina," Owain said simply. "Therefore, I won't stop you from going back early."
Morgan's response was a smile in his friends' direction, then a "Okay, let's go!" to Malin.
Malin couldn't help returning the smile and gave a playfully mocking bow. "Of course, young prince."
Thankfully, Morgan laughed a bit at the joke. Malin started leading the way, about to bring up why he wanted to talk in the first place, before Morgan pointed out, "I'm not a prince by title, you know." It wasn't rude in any form; just a general statement.
"Oh?" Even though he asked, he knew the answer. Robin had explained it to him at some point, when going over her plans for what they would do after Grima was defeated.
"You know how my mother is just called 'the tactician?'" Morgan asked. "It's sort of like that. Lucina's the next exalt, I'm the next tactician, and Owain's the exalt backup. I'm the youngest out of everyone in the castle, so that played a part. Aside from that, Father always notes on how it's easier when there's two people sharing the workload, so it would be better if I was always there to help the next exalt. I'm also the only one that doesn't have a Brand yet, so there's some people who'd rather pass the exalt-ship to a nephew rather than a more immediate relative. Everyone's placing their bets on nothing happening to any of us, because if I die one day or everyone else dies and I have to be the exalt, then there's no replacement tactician. They'll have to give up on the idea or train another person for the job if that happens. I think that's why Mother didn't want me leaving the castle a lot."
Oh, the poor kid. Malin was pretty sure that wasn't the case; at least, it wasn't the entire reason. Maybe a little bit of it, but not all of it. "Speaking of…you know that conversation we had a while back, where you talked about Robin and I got all distant?"
"Yeah," Morgan replied. "What about it?"
"Sorry for…the distant-ness, I guess," Malin said. "I used to see Robin as an excellent role model—I still do, just to a lesser extent. I studied tactics like she did, grew stronger so I could catch up and match her strength. The way she always talked about Lucina, I assumed she would be absolutely hovering over you. Hearing that she didn't shocked me a bit, is all."
"Well, that's all right," Morgan said, smiling. "I still saw her a lot, just not as much as I do now. It's a little off-topic, but sometimes I feel like I'm the oldest—like when Lucina and Owain get in a fight, and I have to stop them from hurting each other—and at other times, I'm glad I'm the youngest—like when I get upset, and it feels okay because I'm not expected to be more mature than anyone else. I like to see her change as a sign I'm growing up a bit. It just feels better that way."
Malin chuckled a little. "Always the optimist. Never change, Morgan. Never change."
"Rest assured, I have no intentions to," Morgan said simply.
It was right about then that Marth came into view. She was sitting outside with bags around her, with her mask off. Unintentionally or not, though, she had hair covering her left eye. She seemed to be calculating something—how long it would take them to get to the eastern side of Ylisse, probably.
When Marth noticed them, she rushed to put her mask back on—although Morgan seemed more interested in the bags, likely to be polite.
"Good, you're back," Marth said, looking at Malin. "And now we can leave. Grab your bag and let's go."
"Why so soon?" Malin asked.
"You know my reasons," Marth replied.
"I don't, actually," Malin said simply. He looked over at Morgan. "Unfortunately, that's my cue. I'll come by the castle in a few weeks. You'll look out for me?"
"Of course!" Morgan said. He gave a small wave—a reluctant one, yes, but a wave nonetheless—and continued on inside.
As soon as Morgan was gone, Marth said, "I don't know how you can be so friendly with him. But, either way, I wasn't joking—we'll travel to Ylisstol, get my sword, and go home."
"We can't just go with the Mini Shepherds? We'll need to wait for them to get there either way."
"Then I'll have to talk to Chrom. I…I'm not ready for that. I know he'll welcome me back with open arms, but I can't see myself accepting the embrace. I've done so much to hurt him, even when I thought I was helping."
"Running away from your problems won't fix them."
"I know, I know…but reuniting isn't something I look forward to anymore."
(A/N: Hey, it's that "Morgan isn't considered royalty" conversation from Villains Rise and Allies Fall! Among the other things that happened in this chapter. The next chapter will be the last in the arc, so we're getting close to the end of the story.)