“Thank you, my dear, for helping my boy,” said Justin’ mother. Narseh, lost in thought, did not immediately realize she was speaking to him. “And for my granddaughter as well — I am at ease, knowing she is safe with you. You... hmm... I suppose you don’t plan on having your own children, do you?”

Narseh smiled. For once, Julia Claudia had phrased the question with relative delicacy compared to previous conversations. At first, her fondness for him had repeatedly stumbled over the fact that this wonderful, kind, honest young man was wallowing in debauchery, openly cohabiting not just with a man but — what a scandal! — with two men at once. Yet, Narseh was clearly dear to Justin, a far better parent than that woman who was best left unnamed, and, as it turned out, the very same legendary physician who had saved Bizanth by inventing a cure for the Black Blight. Over time, Julia Claudia had not exactly accepted his personal life, but she had chosen to overlook it.

“Who knows…” Narseh said slyly. “I must admit, I have thought about it.”

“Oh?” she scoffed, clearly not believing him for a second. “I often think how much better it would be if my boy abandoned this foolishness and found a wife with a temperament like yours — caring, devoted… He’ll find no happiness with that woman, that much is clear.” She raised her voice slightly, ensuring Justin could hear. “Such a handsome, brilliant young man — why ruin his life this way?”

It was not the first time she had broached this topic. Becoming a father had not diminished Justin’ popularity among the city’s women; if anything, it had only increased it. Now he was cloaked in a double aura of noble sorrow — not only a war veteran but also a presumed widower with an adorable little daughter. Much to his mother’s dismay, however, he was growing increasingly indifferent to female attention. He still loved society — people were, after all, what interested him most. He made friends easily, could jest without offending, relished being the center of attention, and repaid his companions with warm, sincere interest. He loved music, wine, carefree discussions about the latest literary fads, even the capital’s gossip — but now, such interactions never turned into anything more.

Most of the time, Justin simply let his mother’s laments pass over him with a good-natured smile; occasionally, he engaged in spirited debate. But Julia Claudia could not have expected that this time, her son would burst into laughter.

“You won’t believe this, Mother, but I actually met such a lady a few months ago. Just like Narseh! A real paragon of virtue, whose every word was ‘Whatever you say, my dear.’ But alas, it wasn’t meant to be…”

“Oh, really?” Narseh said innocently. “Perhaps it didn’t work out because ‘Whatever you say, my dear’ was meant for someone else?”

“Yes, exactly! I must be simply jealous…”

He and Justin exchanged amused glances. Then Narseh attempted to explain:

“Justin and I are both rather grounded people — that is likely why we became friends. We both love simple things — home comforts, a good meal, a bit of merriment… And so we are drawn to those unlike us — to those who strive for something greater. To people who shine, who lead others, who change the world. Even if being with them isn’t always easy…”

As he said it, an unbidden thought pricked at him: what is it like when it is easy? When it isn’t difficult. He had pondered this more than once, hadn’t he? He was drawn to those like Ardashir, like Lyn…

But moments had accumulated — too many — when he had wanted to share his thoughts, his worries, but had held his tongue. Again and again. Because why burden others with such things? And so, at times, loneliness crept in — even when Lyn was right there, close, wonderful, beloved, always trying to cheer him, to make him laugh — still, it sometimes felt as though he were alone… It was different with Ardashir, yet still not simple. They were both guarded, though Ardashir masked it well with an easy charm. They feared troubling each other with their burdens and often remained silent about the things they should have spoken of first, as though separated by glass… And Lyn, of course, has his own silent burdens. Many of them. Narseh understood why he remained silent — and Narseh had even tried to ask, but was he truly certain he wanted to know?

That did not mean Narseh was unhappy. He had not one, but two people he loved so much that it sometimes felt as if the sheer enormity of it would overwhelm him.

And difficult as they might be, they were the ones who pulled him out of his shell, who reminded him that he was part of the world, that he too could change things… That it made sense to exist, even when the world was frightening and strange. That even a quiet, hesitant voice like his had meaning…

This, too, was a childhood memory: Nadeh — his third cousin and perhaps his closest friend in those days, though Narseh had always preferred the quiet of the forest or taking care for animals over noisy company. She was just like Lyn, like Ardashir. Full of the wildest ideas, always dragging Narseh along, no matter how many times he told her it was foolish. Never sitting still, not for a moment...

...Except, perhaps, on those long summer evenings, when Narseh would coax his father into telling them a story. By then, he had long outgrown bedtime tales, but he still loved the calm, steady voice that carried him away like waves into a world of stories. "Which one tonight?" his father would ask, glancing at Narseh’s friends.

"The one about the man who walks the clouds!"

"No, the girl born from a flower’s bud!"

"No, tell us about the stars!"

And so they would gather — sprawled across the veranda or perched on the rooftop, as close to the sky as they could get — chewing on dried fruit, listening. Almost always, his mother would join them, too. His father would point to the constellations, and under his words, they would come to life — turning into sages who spoke with nature, wanderers dreaming of ages yet to come, heroes who did not fight with swords but triumphed through kindness and cleverness.

Nadeh would grumble that there were a thousand better things to do — things that, of course, could not possibly be done without her. And yet, every time, she would stay. Listening, enchanted.

"Narseh?"

He came to himself, noticing Justina reaching out toward him.

"You look sad," she said seriously.

He smiled and gently clasped her small fingers.

"I was just remembering."

"Something good?"

"Yes." He nodded. "Something very good."

A shadow passed over the garden — vast wings blocking the sunlight. No one found it odd that the Archon's bird would visit the villa of Patrician Aquila, his close friend. What was less obvious, and best kept unknown to outsiders, was that these days she often bore not the Archon himself, but someone else entirely.

"I suppose I should go," Narseh said. He kissed Justina on the cheek — he had to rise on his toes to reach her, and she, fearless as ever, leaned down to meet him, though she still clung tightly to the horse’s mane. Then he handed the reins to Justin, who immediately passed them to his mother — clearly, he intended to walk Narseh to the house.

"And whom do you plan to bless with your presence today?" Justin smirked as they strolled together.

"Oh, stop it!" Narseh sighed. "Lyn. I already saw Ardashir briefly yesterday, and before that, a few days ago. Do you know where we went? To your restaurant."

Justin gave a sheepish grin.

"Let me guess — he fell asleep from sheer boredom?"

"Don’t say that! He considers you family, just as I do. He wanted to see what you're up to. It was his idea. And I think he enjoyed it. We had meat stew in a clay pot."

"What?! They're still serving that?" Justin spluttered. "That’s a winter dish! It’s already March! I swear, I’m going to have my manager’s head for this."

"Oh…" Narseh winced, suddenly feeling terribly guilty for the unfortunate manager. "But it was delicious…"

"Of course it was! It’s my own recipe. Well, in any case, I’ll go there today and check on things myself… And as for you — make sure to have a fantastic night on my behalf. You have my blessing."

Narseh sighed sympathetically.

Once, he had asked Justin outright if he ever felt lonely. He and Valeria saw each other far less than Justin would have liked. "I think she’s hinted she wouldn’t mind if you… found someone," Narseh had ventured.

"I know," Justin had replied. "But I also know she hasn’t found anyone herself. And when you’ve figured out exactly what you need… replacing it with a poor imitation doesn’t hold much appeal."

On that, Narseh — who had spent years tangled in the full moon games — could not have agreed more.

"A bit of harmless flirtation is one thing," Justin had continued. "But sooner or later, you risk hurting someone. Besides, the gods gave man both imagination and hands — thanks to Lyn, I even have two of those again." He had smirked. "Or maybe I’m just getting old."

"Actually," Narseh murmured, nervously biting his lip, "I’m not sure tonight will be like that… I need to have a serious conversation with him."

Justin’s expression darkened slightly.

"Ah. You’ve decided to show him."

Narseh nodded.

"What do you think he’ll say?"

"Lyn?" Justin exhaled. "Well, he'll be surprised… to put it mildly. Might even lose his temper for a moment. But he loves you. I think he'll understand."

Narseh approached Fluffy, who had settled herself on a patch of grass clear of trees. He wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling against her silver feathers.

"You’re early, my dear one. Lyn and I aren’t meeting until evening."

The great bird merely curled up, resting her head on her forepaws, making it abundantly clear she had no intention of leaving. Most likely, Lyn had asked her to take Narseh somewhere special — a surprise.

It was foolish, really. They could have flown together, wherever Lyn had chosen for their meeting. He was right here, in the Great City, so close. And in truth, there was no need for any grand setting, no surprises. They could simply meet. Simply talk. Narseh was thinking not about the city Lyn wished to show him, but about the conversation to come.

"Wow, is she really just going to sit here until you’re ready?" Justin whispered. "Wait, let me grab my daughter — this is far more impressive than a horse."

"Will you really wait for me?" Narseh addressed the bird in mock sternness. "Well, then, you’ll be waiting quite a while. I need to prepare. It won’t be quick. So, in the meantime, let yourself be fed and petted, will you?"

Once inside the house, he stood before the mirror, studying his reflection.

How much he resembled his mother. And his father, too. He had always looked like them — but he had never thought much of it before. His body had simply been his own. Now, it carried something far more significant.

He could see his family in every feature. His paternal aunt’s brows, his cousin’s cheekbones. Every part of this face belonged, in some way, to someone else.

As if all his relatives, long lost to the world of the living, were watching him from the other side of the glass… waiting for the chance to return.