Marisa didn’t come to the gate.
She stood on the low rise beyond the eastern fence, dark cloak stirring in the evening air, long black hair unbound.
Even at that distance, the refined lines of her body were clear, the full curve of her breasts under the simple traveler’s wrap, the narrow waist, the long legs that the cloak only half-concealed.
She made no gesture.
She waited until Kane saw her, then tilted her head in a silent request.
Kane finished the last knot on his pack and looked at Kessa and Griselda.
"Stay here. Two days. Then follow."
Kessa’s ears flattened at once.
"Absolutely not."
"Grathak likes bold moves," Kane said.
"Marisa’s suggestion. I go alone first. You two arrive after the initial welcome is finished. It keeps him from having every lever in the room on the first night."
Griselda studied him for a long moment, yellow eyes unreadable.
"You trust her assessment of her brother’s preferences."
"I trust that walking in with the full set of claims and allies on day one makes it easier for him to stage whatever spectacle he’s planning. Two days later you walk in on your own terms."
Kessa’s tail lashed once, hard.
"I hate this."
"I know."
Kane touched her shoulder briefly.
"Two days. Not longer."
He turned to Razan and Shenron on the porch.
"I’m leaving now. They stay under your roof until the second morning, then they follow. If anything changes, send word along the southern road."
Shenron’s red eyes narrowed, but he gave a short nod.
"I’ll take them as far as the outer capital district when the time comes. After that, you’re on your own."
Razan said nothing. His silence was permission enough.
Kane adjusted Mjoldr across his back, met Kessa’s still-angry stare one last time, and walked out of the compound toward the rise where Marisa waited.
She turned as he approached and began walking without a word, leading him onto a narrower track that cut west of the main road.
The weapons she carried were light, a long knife at one hip, a slender short sword at the other, but she moved like someone who knew how to use both.
For a while the only sound was their boots on the packed earth and the evening insects starting up in the grass.
Marisa finally spoke, voice low and even.
"He respects audacity more than careful numbers. Arriving alone tells him you are either arrogant or certain. Both interest him. Arriving with a claimed tiger warrior and a fallen angel on the first day tells him you are building a platform. He will try to break the platform before he bothers with you."
Kane glanced at her.
The fading light caught the clean line of her throat, the soft weight of her breasts shifting beneath the wrap with each step, the way the cloak occasionally parted to show the long bare stretch of her thigh.
She was fully aware of the picture she made. She used it the same way she used her visions, deliberately.
"And when they arrive two days later?"
"Then the platform is already standing, and he has to deal with it in front of the packs who will be watching. Timing matters here. Boldness on the first day. Reinforcement on the third. That is the sequence that keeps the most options open."
"Why aren’t we travelling in carts?"
"My brother doesn’t like me travelling."
They walked on as full dark settled.
The track remained clear of patrols, Marisa’s knowledge of the quieter paths showing in every turn she chose.
Kane kept Mjoldr loose and his senses open.
The forest felt different this close to the capital approaches: denser with old power, heavier with the scent of many packs that answered to one throne.
When the moons were high, they stopped in a shallow stand of trees that offered enough cover for a cold camp.
No fire.
Marisa sat on a fallen trunk and stretched her long legs out, cloak falling open across her lap.
The thin wrap beneath left little to the imagination. Full breasts, dark nipples faintly visible through the fabric, the shadow between her thighs when she shifted.
She made no effort to close the cloak.
Kane set his pack down and rested Mjoldr across his knees.
"You’re not subtle."
Marisa’s amber eyes reflected the moonlight.
"Subtlety is for people who still need to hide what they want. I already told you what I want. My brother’s death. This empire pointed outward. And the variable in my visions is standing close enough that the ending finally changes."
She leaned back on her hands, the motion lifting her chest.
"You refused me in a rented room when I offered the simple version. I’m beginning to wonder if you only take what fights you first."
Kane’s mouth curved slightly.
"I take what I decide to keep. There’s a difference."
The air between them tightened.
Marisa held his gaze for a long moment, then deliberately let one side of the wrap slip further, baring the upper curve of one breast and the dark edge of her nipple.
The invitation was clear, patient, and completely without shame.
Kane felt the pull, the same refined, deliberate beauty that had walked into his room the first night, now under open sky with no daughter or fallen angel watching. He set Mjoldr aside, closed the short distance, and braced one hand on the trunk beside her hip.
Marisa tilted her face up, amber eyes half-lidded, and waited.
Their mouths met in a slow, testing kiss that carried none of the desperate heat of the previous nights.
It was measured, almost experimental.
Marisa’s hand slid up his chest, then higher, fingers curling at the back of his neck.
Kane’s free hand traced the bare skin of her waist, thumb brushing the underside of her heavy breast.
She made a soft sound and arched into the touch, the wrap slipping further.
For a moment it would have been easy to finish what the kiss started, push the fabric aside, take the full weight of her in his hands, and let the night on the road to the emperor’s hall become something simpler and more physical.
Marisa clearly expected it. Her thigh shifted, opening the space between them, the scent of her clean skin and quiet interest rising.
Kane broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers for a single breath.
"Not on the open road. Not when your brother’s soldiers could be an hour behind us or an hour ahead."
Marisa exhaled, equal parts frustration and reluctant agreement.
"Practical. Annoying, but practical." She drew the wrap back into place with deliberate slowness, making sure he watched every inch of skin disappear.
"When the hall is behind us, and the trial is finished, I will not be this patient again."
Kane stepped back and reclaimed Mjoldr.
"When the trial is finished, we’ll see what’s left to be patient about."
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