"And after that, I managed to convince Dad to let me come here by myself!" Clara leaned forward with wide eyes, her hands animated as she spoke, then turned to Elsa with a bright grin. "With Elsa!" she added proudly, finishing the whirlwind tale she'd been telling for the past hour and a half.
Zara, seated across from her, blinked slowly. "I... see."
She had been listening. Kind of. It was hard not to when Clara talked like a firework going off—story after story, bouncing from topic to topic with barely a breath between. Still, even paying half-attention didn't make it any easier to keep up.
Elsa leaned in, folding her hands neatly. "And what about you, Princess Zara?" she asked with a polite tilt of her head. "Why don't you tell us what you've been up to since last we met?"
Zara's gaze flicked to Elsa's, sharp and calculating. The look in the other girl's eyes wasn't just casual curiosity—it was pointed. Probing.
Her fingers clicked once against the underside of the table.
"Not too much," Zara replied evenly, voice low. "The usual."
*Standing around like palace furniture.* She didn't say it. She didn't have to. They both knew.
"I was sent out to investigate the colossal shadow tree. To find out who created it."
That got their attention. Clara's eyes lit up, her whole face seeming to brighten. "Oh! That! I heard about it!" she gasped. "I wanted to go to Moonveil—uh, Triston. That's the name again, right? Or did they change it back?" She waved her hand, brushing off the thought. "Anyway, once I heard, I so wanted to see it! What was it like?"
Zara scoffed softly. Her tone darkened, losing the polite edge. "Revolting, Clara. It goes against the goddess's will. A parasite, feeding where it shouldn't. It needs to be cleansed."
Clara flinched at the intensity. "Uh, ye—yeah, I—I suppose," she muttered, awkwardly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear like it would help her sit straighter. More composed.
Elsa cleared her throat gently. "Did you find the one responsible for creating it?"
Zara nodded, bitterness flashing in her eyes. "I did. But... they escaped." Her gaze dropped to the table, voice tight. "Slipped through my fingers."
"I see..." Clara murmured, and the mood dipped fast—tension lingering in the silence like a stormcloud.
But then Clara suddenly perked up, an idea sparking behind her eyes. "Wait! I made new friends here!" she said quickly. "They're really nice—you should meet one of them!"
Zara's head lifted slightly, brows beginning to furrow. "That won't be—"
"Xain!" Clara cut her off, standing abruptly and waving across the room. "Could you come here for a minute?"
Across the tavern, Xain turned from where he sat beside Edluar, blinking at the sudden attention. He pointed to himself, mouthing, "Me?" like there could be another Xain sitting nearby.
Clara nodded enthusiastically.
Xain gave Edluar a quick, slightly sheepish "Excuse me," and rose from his seat, walking toward them under the weight of curious stares. The tension in the room was palpable—after all, not many people just walked up to the table of a princess, let alone Veridiania's princess.
He reached them, eyes flicking between the three girls, nerves evident in his posture.
"Um... do you need something?" he asked Clara quietly.
"Yes!" Clara beamed, gesturing to the girl seated across from her. "I want you to meet my friend, Zara Veridiania! The princess of Veridiania!"
Xain nodded quickly, nerves clinging to him like a second skin. "Yeah... I know that," he muttered under his breath, glancing down at Clara with a half-smile.
Clara clapped her hands together. "And here is Xain! The first friend I made in this city!" she declared proudly, her voice carrying just enough to draw a few stares—one of which came from somewhere across the tavern, where Roland visibly winced from the pain of being forgotten....and probably his back.
Zara raised her gaze to Xain, eyes cool and unreadable. He stood there stiffly, unsure of the etiquette, until he awkwardly extended his hand. "Uh... nice to meet you?" he offered, unsure if it was the right thing to say to a princess.
Zara's eyes dropped to his hand. She studied it a second longer than necessary before finally reaching out to take it. Her grip surprised him. He had expected soft, maybe delicate, but her fingers were firm—calloused, solid. They felt like someone who trained as often as she gave orders.
"You have an interesting way of fighting," she said calmly.
Xain blinked. Then realization crashed into him like a falling beam, and his face flushed red. "P-Please don't mention that, y-your highness," he stammered, voice practically cracking under the weight of embarrassment.
That earned a faint smile from Zara. "Why not?" she asked, leaning ever so slightly forward. "You do not wish to talk about how you fought like a woman to win your match?"
Xain let out a soft, wounded squeak, trying to disappear into himself.
"Wait!" Clara leaned forward across the table, eyes wide. "I never got to ask you about that yesterday! Why did you do it? I want to know!"
"Clara," Elsa said gently, placing a hand on her friend's shoulder, "Calm down. He'll tell us when he's ready, right?" She turned to Xain with a look that offered him an escape.
Xain nodded far too quickly. "Y-Yeah. Later. Way later," he mumbled, managing a nervous laugh. The awkward energy began to ease just a little, the heaviness lifting from the table.
Then Zara tilted her head slightly, a thoughtful gleam in her eyes as she folded her hands. "Do you get along with the other fighters well?"
Xain gave a thoughtful hum. "I guess so? I think I get along with most of them."
"What about Sir Calvinel?" Zara asked, and this time, Elsa caught it—there was a spark of something in her voice. A little too much interest.
Xain tilted his head. "I mean.... yeah? Everybody gets along with him. So, yeah."
"Aha!" Clara exclaimed, spinning to face Zara. "So he's popular with you too, huh?"
Zara gave her a flat look, unimpressed. Clara turned toward Elsa, expectant. "This is what you were talking about, right?"
Elsa blinked. "I think?" she said, uncertain—she couldn't remember what 'this' was.
"Mmm. Mmm. I understand now," Clara replied, nodding sagely like she'd uncovered some grand secret.
Then she suddenly leaned over and grabbed Xain by the shoulder, pulling him close to whisper in his ear.
Xain listened carefully, eyes darting once to Zara, then back to Clara. When she pulled away, he gave a hesitant nod. "Okay. I'll try."
He turned toward Zara and cleared his throat. "Um… would you like me to introduce the two of you?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.
Zara straightened, her composure returning. "Yes, please."
She didn't particularly like Clara's little insinuation about being a fan of Calvinel—but considering what she came here to accomplish, it would work in her favor. Perfectly.