Annie decided she wanted more of the Raccoonfolk story, and afterward a trip to the top of the wall, especially now that we could hear the rain had finally stopped.
Tee Tee did eventually return as we began our trip up.
He crept back as though nothing had happened and climbed onto my shoulder with exaggerated innocence.
I scolded him.
He chirped back at me, unapologetic.
I scooped Annie into my arms and carried her toward the main staircase that led directly to the gate of Melrose and one of the stairs to the top. This was where most visitors would come to see the old dwarf or his kin. Some of the steps grew uneven and higher near the top, and I knew we could make the climb quicker if I carried her.
Tee Tee nestled between us, stealing warmth.
As we climbed, I recited the same rules Prosic used to tell Sandy and me.
“Both feet on the ground. No leaning over. And one hand on the rail at all times, Pidge.”
“Okay!” she said, practically vibrating with excitement.
Prosic used to tell us a man had been fooling around atop the wall when it was first built and paid the ultimate price for it. I knew Annie knew these rules better than anyone, and this wasn’t the first time I’d brought her up here.
But the worry still lingered.
It always did.
Still, it was hard to stay anxious as Annie began making exaggerated owl noises toward Tee Tee.
He chirped back, utterly convinced they were having a meaningful conversation.
A smile stretched from ear to ear as I took the final steps. I reached forward, unlatched the heavy door, and pushed it open.
The cool air hit me like a familiar hug.
The wind wasn’t furious up here, but it was strong enough to make me aware of it. I placed Annie down and reminded her of the rules again. She nodded studiously.
Tee Tee burrowed into my jerkin, fully aware the wind was not something he wished to brave. He purred anxiously.
I took Annie’s hand and guided her toward the small stone chair Prosic had fashioned a century ago. Her arm stretched high to keep one hand on the old railing as we walked.
When we reached it, I lifted her carefully and set her onto the seat. I sat beside her, and together we looked out over the grand city.
The view was mesmerizing.
Bruno’s Cathedral rose proudly above the skyline. The Red Post Manor stood firm and orderly. The old clock tower—silent and broken for years—still commanded attention. Tiny homes and huts clustered together like careful brushstrokes. The market bustled in distant movement.
And just as it always had in this exact spot, the wind softened.
Prosic had built the chair here for a reason. He used to say it was the only place on the wall where the wind respected you.
We sat for a long while, Annie peppering me with questions—how old is that building? Have you ever been there? What’s inside that tower?
I answered each one with a smile and a bit of nostalgia.
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Then she asked to peer over the wall.
I agreed—so long as she followed the rules.
I guided her carefully to one of the small viewing gaps built into the stone. She pressed her little face near the opening. I wasn’t worried; even as small as she was, she couldn’t possibly squeeze through.
I leaned over beside her, gazing down at my beloved city.
People were walking home from their shifts. Red Postmen were returning from patrol. A small halfling family hurried into their house, the father carrying two children at once.
It was peaceful.
Cozy.
Just right.
And yet—
That same familiar itch stirred inside me.
Melrose would always be comfortable. It would always be safe.
But sometimes it felt… too small.
High Ranger Graysia once told me I was a vagabond bound to a city girl’s body. Most would take offense to that.
I felt warmth when she said it.
Because she wasn’t wrong.
I knew Melrose wasn’t my only home. The thought of buying my own place surfaced again. I could even see the rooftop of the house I knew was still available a few miles out.
That could be my future.
Or my prison.
My thoughts dissolved as Annie spoke again.
“Isn’t that your friend?”
I followed her tiny hand as she pointed down and to the right.
A smile formed as I spotted the familiar red uniform.
Jupiter.
He strolled down the road below, relaxed, not in his usual rigid, militant posture. He was laughing.
I leaned a little further to see who he was laughing with.
My heart sank.
Walking beside him, radiant even from this distance—
Kayleigh Tosh.
Laughing with him.
I grimaced as I watched the two of them stroll down the road.
My mind began trying to untangle the knot of thoughts, emotions, concerns, and questions all at once.
Danni said she had a date with a postman. It was only an hour or two past noon. Was this that date?
They were closer in age than Jupiter and I. They could simply be friends catching up. And Jupiter had never once made it seem as though he was interested in courtship. He always carried himself as if his only partner would ever be his duty to Lindor and the Red Post.
Kayleigh was wearing the same clothes from the Cabbage Bar. She hadn’t freshened up. Just left work to meet him?
Even Sandy put effort into what she wore when she was going to see R.S.
My barrage of questions derailed as Annie tugged my sleeve again.
“Is it him? Or is that a different postman?”
I steadied myself and looked down at her.
“Ugh… yeah. That’s Lieutenant Jupiter Nouns,” I replied as evenly as I could.
“Are they friends?” she asked.
I looked back down at the pair. They were still laughing, walking easily side by side. No awkwardness. No stiffness. No hesitation.
“I think so,” I said blankly, still watching them.
Annie tilted her head.
“I think they like each other.”
I inhaled slowly but didn’t answer.
Logic was no longer breaking through. Something deeper had taken hold, and my body was reacting before my thoughts could catch up.
Jupiter was one of the people I cared about most.
Sandy, Danni, and R.S. were my friends.
Bruno and Graysia were my mentors.
But Jupiter…
He was both and neither.
He was my ally.
In a strange way, he was one of the only people who didn’t see me as the baker’s daughter, or an apprentice cleric, or a ranger struggling to keep pace. He saw me as something closer to a colleague—even with my mishaps, even with my stagnation.
He believed in me.
He saw me.
And I saw him.
He was one of the most earnest people I had ever met—hardworking, disciplined, driven. He had traveled all over Middle Lindor already. Like me, he wasn’t afraid to step beyond these walls.
That made me protective of him.
As an ally would be.
His story was just beginning.
And in a week and a half, I was meant to be part of it.
We were leaving for Melite soon.
Yet watching him now stirred something I couldn’t name. My worry about my own lacking skills crept in like a cold wind, settling deep in my bones.
Kayleigh was beautiful. Talented. Hardworking in her own right.
But not in the same way.
Jupiter was nearly a figurehead in Melrose now.
Kayleigh was… beloved, yes. But still simply townsfolk.
I suddenly thought of something my father once told me—how in older times there were nobles. People born into ranks that decided who matched with whom, who belonged beside whom.
Most cities had abandoned that thinking.
But wasn’t that exactly what I was doing now?
Trying to measure worth.
Trying to decide what “fit.”
Trying to determine if they “should” work.
The thought made my stomach twist.
They turned down a side road and disappeared from view, still laughing.
“Are you okay, Benni?” Annie’s small voice asked.
I looked down to see her studying me with genuine worry.
I straightened.
“Yes,” I lied softly. “Let’s get you back down to your drawings, Pidge.”
She hesitated, then smiled. “I’m going to draw Tee Tee big!”
“Sounds good.”
We made our way back toward the staircase. I kept one hand steady on the rail and the other gently guiding her.
But as we descended, my mind wouldn’t settle.
Was I shaken because of what I thought I saw?
Or because I was finally starting to understand what I really thought.
