12. Istra (I)

15 years old

One afternoon shortly after her birthday, Nina returned to the castle from the barracks and knew that something was wrong. One of the ministers was waiting for her inside the main door, accompanied by – it took Nina a few seconds to notice him – Sir Kellam, who was acting as provisional captain of the knights while Frederick was away with her parents.

Immediately she thought that she must have made some sort of blunder, such as missing a court session. The two ushered her into the great hall, where there was nobody else at present. Then the minister, a man of average height whose slight hair countered the roundness of his face, nervously handed her an envelope.

"A letter from Lady Lucina, Your Grace."

As she took it, Nina realized that she was currently the highest-ranking person in the entirety of Ylisstol. Whether she was ready or not, such urgent matters had to be directed to her.

Nina broke the seal and unfolded the letter. A jolt went through her as she noticed that it was not her sister's familiar handwriting, but after a quick skim she recognized the hand as Inigo's. It was dated two days ago, and like the letter Lucina had sent after taking the fort at Mascos, it was not particularly long.

Lucina has taken ill with heat fever. She has been confined to bed for the past 4 days. The healers cannot say anything certain about the course of illness in adults until the fever breaks. I am sending this in case she does not recover to send it herself. There has been more trouble in Istra recently, and there is likely to be more soon. Fiora is healthy & fine – I suffered as a child & will not be affected – I do not want to concern you without reason, but there is reason now, and I am worried. MY GREATEST APOLOGIES.

Nina's entire body had become suddenly, perfectly still. With as little movement as possible, she turned over the paper, but found nothing more.

Heat fever – an illness endemic to the harshest deserts in the north of Plegia. It was so named because it was once believed that it was caused by the extreme heat of the area, though Nina had been taught that it spread through air like most anything else. When Nina herself had caught the disease as a child, shortly before Emma was born, she experienced something akin to a violent flu, in addition to the telltale red lines that appeared across her skin and took more than a month to fully subside.

If one caught it as a child – as most people who caught it did – it was awful, but you almost always passed through it without any long-term effects, and never had to worry about catching it again. Nina had it. Fiora had it. Abel, according to Mother, had it as a toddler. But Lucina had apparently never caught it, until now. The only thing Nina knew about the disease in adults was that it was very unlucky and very dangerous.

"Lucina," she started. It was hard to speak; her tongue was stiff. "Lucina has taken gravely ill. Her husband has written to tell us."

The minister, who kept his expression very level, spoke softly. "Shall we forward it to the Exalt and Queen?"

Nina gripped the paper in her hands as she thought over the situation. Lucina was ill, and Inigo had referred to some vague other trouble in the city. Her parents were away for her mother's health. It was Nina's decision.

"No," she said, "not directly." Nina took a deep breath. "I am going to go to Istra. Somebody should be there with her." Her voice grew stronger, took on resonance as she spoke. She turned directly to Kellam. "Send word to my parents, but deliver it to Captain Frederick. He'll determine the best way to pass this on. Tell them that I've gone to Lucina, and that I'll write again once I see how she's doing."

Kellam simply nodded, but the minister looked at her with surprise. "Are you going alone?"

"Yes. I can travel fastest with Lehran on my own," she said. "It's not as though I'm riding off to battle." Now the minister bowed his head, and Nina, emboldened, took it as a sign of trust.

Nina stood, still holding the letter, the two men continuing to look at her. She didn't know if there was something else she was expected to do. "Then I'll leave the letter to my family to you," she said, giving a quick bow, before she turned on her heel to rush back to the stables.

"Wait!" called a voice. She looked back to see Kellam running after her. "Now wait just one moment, Your Grace," he said as he came to a halt. "If you're going to Plegia on your own, you should take funds with you."

"Oh." He was right, though she couldn't imagine that she would need much. She forced herself to calm down and take a deep breath. You're going to get to Lucina as soon as you can.

"Come with me," said Kellam. "We'll get to the letter soon enough." Then he took off down the main hall. It was difficult to follow him through the castle, as he seemed to be always ten steps ahead, vanishing around corners or down long halls until Nina spotted him waiting for her at the next turn. Eventually she caught up to him for the last time at the room next to her parents' study, which he unlocked with a key on a ring he kept in a black pouch.

Inside, there were shelves of binders and books – records Nina had never seen before – in addition to a few chests against one of the walls. Kellam used another key and opened one of the chests. Here was where her parents kept a store of emergency gold.

"Normally, only three people have keys to this room: your mother, your father, and Frederick," said Kellam as Nina looked in awe at the coins. Her family was of course wealthy, but she had never seen so much money before. "Your parents gave me this set in their absence, probably because they didn't expect that anybody trying to break in would come after me for it. Although I don't think I was even in consideration until Maribelle said something to them." He held up the pair of keys with a jingle. "Anyway, this one is a fourth set, and if I'm not mistaken, they mean to give it to you before long."

With coins in her purse – not an unusually large amount for a traveler to carry, but still more than Nina had ever held herself – she made haste back to her pegasus. At first, Lehran was excited to go for a ride again; but he quickly picked up on Nina's agitation and became serious, with discipline worthy of the mount of a knight of Ylisse.

It was midafternoon. Nina mounted Lehran and tucked her riding cloak beneath her legs. Then they took to the skies, casting a long shadow on the ground below.

As much as Nina may have wished that she could fly straight to Istra without stopping, it was a poor idea. The city sat well within the borders of Plegia, and Lehran would tire even if Nina herself found the energy to remain awake. So, a few hours after nightfall, when the winds started to turn unfavorable, she directed him towards the dim lights of a village that lay to the south. She'd had this village in mind as a stopping point, since – if her navigation was correct – she was familiar with it. It was the village where her mother had been found living a decade ago. She had visited it once more on an excursion with the knights.

There was nobody out on the streets to take notice of the girl who landed on the edge of the village riding a black pegasus. Nina walked down the only road, Lehran beside her, looking for the stables that would signal an inn. She passed a few square buildings with tan plaster walls, then a small house with dusty wood panels. She held half a hope of recognizing her mother's apothecary shop this time as well, but while she could remember the interior vividly, she could not at all remember what it looked like on the outside.

Nina did find a small inn all the way down the road. A single horse was lodged under the half-covered stable, and it blearily lifted its head as Nina approached. Inside the inn's building, Nina paid for a meal and a bed in the women's room, then asked if there was some other covered space – a barn or a silo, perhaps – where she could stable her pegasus for the night. The innkeeper, a young woman hardly a few years older than Nina, looked at Nina in confusion. When she finally caught on to what Nina was asking about, she said that she didn't know who would have free space, but that Nina was welcome to ask around the village. Nina was far too tired to do any such thing, and decided that Lehran could endure being tied to a stall for the night.

There was one other person in the inn, a woman standing off to the side with a mug in her hands, staring out the window. Nina took her to be the owner of the horse outside. After about a minute, the woman turned and approached Nina as she sat at the single table waiting on her meal.

"Excuse me," said the woman. "Are you...Lucy of Istra?"

Startled, Nina looked the woman over. She was perhaps in her twenties, with lilac hair and a large dark cape hunched about her shoulders. "No," said Nina; then, unsure how much she should let on, added, "She is my sister."

"Oh!" The woman sat down across from Nina. "I thought I recognized your hair!" She set down her mug on the table. Steam rose from the cup. It smelled like proper Plegian coffee. "I'm from Istra, you see. I've been staying with family in Palladia for the better part of the last year, but I'm finally heading back."

"What happened?" asked Nina, wondering if it had anything to do with the recent troubles in the city.

"Oh, nothing bad. My brother's wife had a baby," said the woman with a laugh. "My parents wouldn't travel, and they needed the help." She reached her hand across the table. "My name is Esther."

Nina took her hand. "Nina," she answered. While her personal sense of wariness told her to be discreet about who she was, it was a common enough name. "So you know my sister. Were you in the militia?"

"Me? Hardly," said Esther with another ebullient laugh. "I only volunteered for the city guard a little bit. I actually felt bad for leaving, since last I was there, things weren't going so well. Speaking of which – I heard things had gotten a little bit safer. Is that true?"

"If you mean with the last of the Grimleal, yes. Things are better now."

"That's good! That's good to hear."

The innkeeper brought Nina's food, the typical inn-fare of stew. Nina thanked her, then pulled out her canteen. "You don't mind if I..."

"Oh, go ahead," said Esther. "I ate earlier." Nina, starving after the long flight, dug in. She felt like she had hardly taken two bites before Esther spoke again. "So you're coming from Ylisse, right?"

Nina swallowed. "Yes."

"I see. I see." Esther looked her over. "And does any word of what happens in Plegia reach over there?"

"It certainly reaches my parents, since my sister tells us what's going on."

"Well, yes. What about others? Does it reach normal people? Nobles? The Exalt?"

Nina stopped mid-spoonful. "I'm pretty sure it reaches the Exalt," she said a second later. "But on the whole...I don't know." She paused. "Our mother is Plegian."

"Now, your sister's husband – he's Plegian too, isn't he? He looks like it."

"Half-Plegian. His father is."

"But your father is Ylissean. So you grew up there."

"Yes, that's...how it worked out."

"I see," said Esther again. She held her mug in both hands, close to her chest. The bottom briefly glowed orange, and fragrant steam rose from the cup again. "I don't see a lot of Ylisseans here, whole or part. Back when the war ended, I remember that people were afraid that there would be missionaries and immigrants everywhere. But it just hasn't happened." Esther glanced to the window. "Maybe Istra is too far from the borders. But Lucy is there, and she's doing her best to really help, at least. She's definitely made a name for herself with it."

Nina set down her spoon. "Are you happy with her for that?" she asked. "Is the city?"

Esther laughed again. "We're happy somebody's taking charge of it! As much as some people don't want to believe it, Grima's dead. We're done with his followers and their games. Of course, I have no skin in it anyway. My family honors the Siblings – always has." And she made a motion with her hand, a symbol, that Nina did not recognize.

Nina pushed aside her empty bowl. She was sorely tempted to ask for coffee, but it wouldn't be a good idea, not with her needing to leave as early as possible tomorrow. If the innkeeper was awake, she could ask for a cup at dawn. "I'm glad to hear that you appreciate her. Because sometimes...I worry that she's not wanted there," said Nina. "And she has been concerned recently that some people assume she has ulterior motives. She's not the type of person who would trick anybody, so...I can tell that disturbs her."

Esther shrugged. "Maybe not everybody thinks the same as me. But what can you do? They're not the ones risking life and limb."

"No," Nina agreed, "they're not." She stood, picking up her bowl and spoon. "If you'll excuse me...I have to go to bed now. I'll be leaving early tomorrow. You see, the reason I'm here is because my sister has taken ill."

"Oh!" Esther looked genuinely surprised. "That's awful. Yes, you need to get to bed then!" She clasped her hands together. "It was very nice meeting you, Nina. When Lucy recovers, ask if she remembers me. In the meanwhile, I'll keep her in my prayers."

"I will," said Nina, nodding. "It was nice meeting you, too. I'll be sure to tell Lucy that Esther is thinking of her."

Nina arrived in Istra on the edge of dusk the next day, recognizing it by the ruins that lay to the south. She landed in the desert near one of the gates that led into the city, then rode Lehran in a trot up the cracked, packed-earth road.

There was a lone guard standing by the entrance, dressed in light clothing, no armor. Ylisstol had about as much protection at its gates during the day. This guard watched Nina from the moment she and Lehran landed. "State your business," he said as they approached, his eyes gazing over Lehran's unusual-colored coat.

"I wish to know where Lucy, the leader of the militia, lives."

Now the guard, reaching her face, did a double take. "I could have guessed as much," he said. "Are you her twin?"

In a sense. "No, but I am her sister."

The man's eyes continued darting about her. He looked to be somewhere in his thirties, about Lucina's age. Even five years ago, when Lucina first came to the city, she looked much more like Nina did at present. The guard nodded, then took a step away from the edge of the wall and pointed broadly to Nina's left. "She lives near the merchant's district, in the southwest. Take the road here until you reach the armory, then turn and go this way for about fifteen minutes – well, less, since you're on a mount. Once you see a big sign with a tea box and a crane on it, you're in the area. I don't know the exact house, but you should be able to ask around."

"Thank you," called Nina. Then, in an effort to show she wasn't naive, she dug a coin out from her wallet and tossed it the guard's way.

"I don't need –" he started, but it was in the air before he could finish. He nevertheless caught the coin and pocketed it without further protest. Nina tapped her heels, and Lehran went forward steadily to the gate.

"Hey," called the guard as she passed. Nina looked over her shoulder towards him. "Everybody's worried for her. This on top of everything with the council – they shouldn't have sprung it on her like they did. It was unfair."

Nina drew to a halt. "I know. She writes to us about how she doesn't want to step down."

"Nobody wants her to. Not any of us who are actually in the militia," he said. "She's a good leader. She's that no matter what else."

Nina felt intermingled pride and jealousy at hearing the complete confidence this man had in her sister. "I know," she said again. "That's the only thing she wants to be in this city. Trust me." Then she turned back to her course.

Istra was the only large city Nina had ever been to other than Ylisstol. She hardly knew many of comparable size, though the two capitals of Regna Ferox were also metropolises, to hear Morgan speak of them. Istra shared the same stout buildings and winding, narrow roads as her hometown. Aside from the different color of stone, the main differences between this city and Ylisstol were that in Istra the buildings were just a bit closer together, and there were many large eaves and awnings to ensure the streets were sheltered from the desert sun. Moving through the city, then, meant Nina would spend minutes going down a street entirely in the shade, only to be suddenly blinded by a patch of afternoon light.

It was hot enough this time of year that Nina didn't wonder why she saw far fewer pedestrians than she did on an average day in Ylisstol. Sounds drifted through open windows – somebody moving boxes in a shop, snippets of conversation from a home – but there was nobody entering or exiting, and the few people who were on the streets moved with a palpable sense of purpose. Those people, if they glanced at Nina, noticed her hardly at all; nobody called out her appearance like the guard at the gate had. Lehran kept his wings close to his body as he walked through the narrow streets, which meant that on first impression, he probably seemed a large horse rather than an uncommon breed of pegasus.

Before long, Nina found the sign with the crane, advertising imports from Valm. She mustered her courage to begin walking into shops and knocking on doors, starting with the shop below.

The various people who answered were polite, willing to point her closer to Lucina and honest if they didn't know; but all of them also seemed quick to close the door. People in Istra didn't make small talk, it seemed. Or maybe – thought Nina as she remembered Esther, who definitely liked small talk – it was simply too late in the day for them to entertain somebody unfamiliar.

She had only taken three directions before the man who answered leaned out of his house and pointed down the street, saying, "You're looking for the house with the blue roof right there."

Now Nina stood in front of the door to her sister's and Inigo's house. It shared a wall with the residence beside it, and the shape of the complete building looked like it once might have been a public house or an inn. There was a hitching post near where the houses were joined, and she had tied Lehran to it, where he nuzzled a gap in the paving stones. Down the dark alley on the other side of the house, there were dim spots of color that looked like large foreign flowers.

It was fast approaching dusk. Lehran made a snort in the street behind her.

She rapped the door with her knuckles, then waited. There was no sign of movement inside. She knocked again. Out of the corner of her eye, the curtain in the window rustled as somebody hastily dropped it. An instant later, Inigo flung open the door.

"Nina?" He sounded hoarse. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"I got your letter," said Nina. "I've come to be with Lucina."

Inigo blinked at her. He looked exhausted and disheveled; he was barefoot, and his shirt fell open to the middle of his chest. "Chrom and Robin sent you?"

"No, they're at an estate away from Ylisstol. I got the letter first, so I came on my own."

"Right," said Inigo, squeezing his eyes shut, "right." He put a hand to his face. "I didn't mean to make anybody come out here, I just...had to tell you. I'm sor–"

"It doesn't matter," Nina interrupted. "I'm here now. May I see her?"

"She's sleeping right now," said Inigo. There was weariness in the shadows under his eyes. "You should come in."

Nina followed him inside. The house was dim. To the left was a sitting room, with what looked like an open kitchen behind it; to the right was a staircase. Sitting at the table in the kitchen area was Fiora, her pale braids stark in the low light. As Nina came inside, she looked up from a doll she had been toying with.

"Aunt Nina," she said, sounding only mildly surprised.

"Hey," said Nina. "How have you been doing?"

"Fin–" Fiora stopped herself. "Not very good."

She looked almost as tired as Inigo. Nina went up to her and reached out to give her a hug. Fiora blinked at her, then dove forward, wrapping her arms tightly around Nina's middle as she buried her face against her chest.

"It's okay," said Nina, leaning against the table to keep her balance. She didn't know what else to say. Fiora was not crying, but she clung to Nina with a surprising strength. Gently, Nina stroked her hair.

Inigo came to stand in the kitchen area as well. He watched the two of them. "You said you wanted to see her?"

Nina nodded. With one final pat, she lightly detached herself from Fiora. Placing her hands on her niece's shoulders, she smiled down at her, trying to be reassuring. A tiny smile flickered on Fiora's face, but it didn't last long.

"Do you want to come with me?" asked Nina. With a nod, Fiora got up from her chair and stood next to Nina. Nina wrapped her arm around Fiora's shoulders, pulling her close.

They followed Inigo up the narrow stone staircase on the other side of the house. The second floor had a tiny landing with three doors, and Nina guessed that these had once been the guest quarters of the inn. One of the doors was open by a crack. Inigo gently pushed it wide.

Lucina lay in bed, her head turned away from the door, one leg dangling out from under the thin sheet. Inigo went in and stood by the bedside. He carefully leaned over and hovered his palm in front of Lucina's mouth, feeling her breath; once he was satisfied, he leaned back, still looking down at her.

Nina stepped forward and joined Inigo at the bed, with Fiora still under her arm. Lucina's hair stuck out in messy spikes over the pillow. Her cheeks were flushed, with the red streaks of heat fever just barely visible on the inside of her arms. Nina couldn't see Lucina's chest move from the position she was laying in, but she heard the faint hiss with every exhale.

Ill and vulnerable, her sister somehow looked both far older and far younger than she had when Nina had last seen her a few months ago. Here, lying sick in bed, she seemed nothing like the commander who had led Istra's militia to some kind of glory.

"She's been holding steady for the past few days," said Inigo, barely raising his voice, "but the fever still hasn't broken." Nina thought back to her own bout with heat fever as a child. Although her memory was muddy, she thought she'd only suffered two or three days in the worst of it.

"Can she eat anything when she's awake?" Nina asked, just as quiet.

"She was able to eat a bit yesterday, but for the most part, no. Not because she can't keep it down, but because she's too tired," said Inigo. "Even drinking water is too much sometimes. I've been buying ice from a restaurant in town. She's been taking that a little better."

Unless there was a mage on the staff who owed him a favor, thought Nina, the ice must cost him a fortune in Istra. "Have you gotten it yet today? I can go if you haven't."

"I got it," whispered Fiora.

Inigo nodded. "It's not too far. Fiora's been going in the morning. She's a great help to me."

Lucina's sickbed cut a grim scene against the rest of the room, which was otherwise comfortable and homey. A vase of flowers – perhaps slightly wilted – sat on a table in front of a mirror. The nearby chair was piled with clothes.

"Please tell me what I can do," said Nina. "I want to help also."

Inigo looked up at her. "Here. Let's give her some quiet." The three of them edged out of the bedroom, and Inigo closed the door again, keeping it slightly ajar so it didn't click. "Tomorrow you can help me with laundry," he said as he started back down the stairs. "How does that sound?"

Nina followed, with Fiora soon after. "I'll help with laundry, but I don't want you...trying to just come up with things to accommodate me or anything." She let her voice raise a little now that they were away from Lucina's room. "I actually want to help. That's why I came."

Inigo turned to face her now that they were both on the bottom floor. "Nina, I'm not trying to accommodate you. It means a lot that you came. I'll tell you if there's anything, but we're already doing everything to take care of Lucina and the house."

He headed for the kitchen area. "There's just...a lot to worry about right now. The whole affair with the council is still going on. I haven't even told them Lucina's taken to bed – I'm sure some of them have heard by now, but that doesn't mean the news has spread. Not in this group." Inigo sighed as he reached into a canvas bag that sat on the stove, pulling from it a few plums and a bundle of waxy paper that turned out to be a flat loaf of bread. He inclined his head towards Fiora, and she quickly fetched a trio of plates from a shelf in the wall and handed them over. "Well, if there's one thing we're not doing, it's making proper meals. If you want to eat more, you can go out and get something for yourself."

Nina had been hungry before she landed, but now she felt too anxious to eat. "Would you like me to get something to bring back to you?" she tried.

Inigo shook his head as he handed Nina a plate with a plum and bread. "This is enough of a meal for me. Fiora?"

But she demurred also. "I'm not really hungry."

"Then this is fine with me too," said Nina.

Fiora held out a chair for her, and Nina, who now certainly felt like she had only showed up to make trouble, had no choice but to sit down. Then Fiora sat down across from her and, despite her previous claim, immediately started to eat. Inigo did not make a move to sit down, but picked up his plate and started eating the bread from where he was.

"Tell me about what's going on with the council," said Nina after taking a few bites.

Inigo turned to her, plum in hand. "How much have you heard?"

"Most of it, I think. Lucina was stripped of her command in the militia because of objections over her heritage."

"That's where it ended up," said Inigo. "I left the council a little while ago in hopes of stopping it before it got to that point. But no luck." He put down his plate and crossed his arms. "By this point...part of me would like to say that we should just accept it. We've done what we came to do in Istra; maybe it's time to move on." (Fiora looked away and fidgeted as he said this, worrying at the end of one of her braids.) "But the council themselves is still divided about dismissing her. Darin – that's one of the members who supports us – wasn't there when the vote took place, so he and a few others have been trying to get it overturned. And he insists on keeping us involved in that whole attempt." He started to pace towards the shelf, plum forgotten. "I personally don't think it will be overturned, since the rest of the council seems sure of their vote, but Darin's been giving Lucina hope. So I have to stay with it for her sake."

Fiora spoke. "But you're still going to meet with them, right? Like the man who came to the house asked?"

"That depends on how Mother is doing," said Inigo gently. "It's not supposed to be until –" He blinked. Then, with a groan, he buried his face in his hands.

"Today," he said, his voice muffled. "It's today."

Fiora stared down at the table, winding her braid around her finger.

"What time was this meeting?" asked Nina.

"It hasn't happened yet," said Inigo. "Eight o'clock. Just past nightfall."

"Do you want me to stay with Fiora while you go?" asked Nina, very seriously. "Or would you like me to go in your place?"

"I'm not going to this meeting." Inigo dropped his hands. "I'm not leaving Lucina for that long."

"What if I went?" Nina asked again.

Inigo blinked at her. "Nina, what would you do? Try to pass yourself off as her?"

"No! Of course not. I would –" Nina reached around for the words. "I would argue for her. I would tell them how if they're concerned about somebody entwined with Ylisse running the militia, she's at least out of the line of succession, and how she's a skilled leader they can't afford to lose."

"You don't want to get involved with the council," said Inigo. "Especially not on my behalf."

"It's not just on your behalf," said Nina. "It's for Lucina more than anything."

"I can't say that she'd want you to get involved with them, either." He turned away, sullen. "I've decided I'm not even going to entertain them right now. What's the point?" His last words turned into a mutter, but he was still audible. "This whole militia business won't even matter if she doesn't make it through."

"Don't talk like that!" Nina exclaimed.

Next to her, Fiora let out a wail.

Nina got up, unsure whether Inigo's words or her own reaction had set Fiora off. "Fiora." Nina went to wrap her arms around her niece. "Fiora, I'm sorry –"

With a sigh, Inigo approached behind her. In a second, Fiora was embracing him instead, shoulders shaking as she clung to his shirt.

"I'm sorry," he said. "It will be all right, sweetheart. Everything will be all right."

Nina stepped away from the table, unnoticed and, for the moment, unwanted. There was a pillow against the wall of the sitting room, away from the kitchen. A blanket was slouched nearby on the seat of a wooden rocking chair. She wondered about the last time Inigo had slept.

Inigo was still hugging Fiora, speaking softly to her. Nina thought over her next words very carefully. "Inigo," she said, just loud enough to be noticed. "I would like to go to the council meeting. I would at least like to go to show support for Istra from the halidom." She took a deep breath. "No matter what happens, we can't have this ruining our relationship with Istra. Lucina wouldn't want that, and I don't want you to look back and feel bad about not having done something. So I am offering to go in your place."

Now Fiora was listening to her as well, peering over Inigo's arm, eyes intent. Nina continued. "I met a woman on the way here who said that she doesn't think Ylisse pays any attention to Plegia at all. If it's pointless to argue against Ylissean involvement, then I want to show them that I came here, that my family's been invested, and that we care," she said. "I won't even argue specifically for Lucina to stay with the militia if you don't want me to."

Inigo thought this over. He let go of Fiora and patted her head. "I know the value of shows of faith like that," he said slowly. "But the council here can be really obstinate. I would feel bad about throwing you into the thick of it."

"I just said I wouldn't go into the thick of it, if I can help it," said Nina. "Do you think it's unsafe for me to go?"

"No," said Inigo, "not that, only..." He trailed off.

Nina watched him as he gazed off to the side, fingers absentmindedly pushing aside Fiora's bangs.

"It's my duty," Nina insisted. "And it's exactly the sort of thing my father would want me to do while he's away." She paused. "Lucina would understand."

"You don't have to put it like that. I know how she is." He put a hand to his face. "Nobody in your entire family knows how to take a day off."

"I figure it the least I can do," said Nina.

The sitting room and kitchen had grown nearly dark. Fiora reached up and rubbed her eyes.

Eventually, Inigo looked to her again. "Okay," he said. "You know what? You're right. It couldn't hurt."