On our final night in Port Roderick, Ryn informed me that her parents wished to have dinner with us.
My immediate response was refusal.
Not because I disliked the idea.
Quite the opposite.
That was precisely the problem.
The thought of sitting at the same table as the family controlling one of the largest trading organizations on the eastern coast felt deeply unreasonable.
Ryn ignored my refusal completely.
“You’re coming.”
That was apparently the end of the negotiation.
Dinner was held at one of the private harbor restaurants owned by the Roderick family.
The upper floor had been reserved entirely for the evening.
Soft golden lanterns hung above dark polished wood while enormous windows overlooked the harbor glowing beneath thousands of reflected lights.
The ocean beyond the promenade shimmered quietly under the night sky.
When we arrived, Caravan Master was already there speaking with Master Roderick.
For a moment, I finally understood where Ryn inherited her composure.
Master Roderick possessed the kind of presence that immediately filled a room without demanding attention.
Tall.
Elegant.
Perfectly dressed.
His smile carried the smooth confidence of someone who had spent decades negotiating across oceans and winning more often than not.
And yet despite that—
He somehow still looked approachable.
Madam Roderick sat nearby beside the lantern light.
Beautiful in a quieter way.
Graceful.
Controlled.
The type of elegance that made me instinctively sit straighter without fully understanding why.
Caravan Master appeared noticeably more relaxed around them than usual.
Not careless.
But familiar.
Like someone visiting old friends rather than powerful allies.
For a while, the dinner remained relatively normal.
Seafood.
Wine.
Merchant conversations drifting between shipping routes and northern trade conditions.
Then Spathian arrived.
And normality died immediately.
Master Roderick’s entire face lit up the moment he saw him.
“Spathian!”
“You brought it, didn’t you?”
Spathian grinned with visible pride before dramatically reaching into his satchel.
Madam Roderick closed her eyes instantly.
“No…”
Too late.
Spathian carefully placed an entirely ordinary-looking spoon into a bowl of soup.
Several seconds later, the soup began steaming more heavily.
The spoon itself was heating it.
Automatically.
Master Roderick looked genuinely delighted.
“Sondre,” he said excitedly while waving Caravan Master closer.
“Sondre, look at this.”
Caravan Master stared at the spoon for several seconds.
Then sighed with the exhausted acceptance of a man who had apparently witnessed far stranger things already.
Madam Roderick gently pressed fingers against her forehead.
“Ah.”
"Here we go again.”
Meanwhile, Ryn looked physically tired somehow despite sitting completely still.
“Can we have one normal dinner?” she asked into the void.
Nobody answered her.
The spoon continued heating soup proudly.
Shortly afterward, Ronan arrived.
Bright smile.
Perfect posture.
The sort of man who probably caused emotional problems accidentally by entering rooms.
Without hesitation, he walked directly toward the seat beside Ryn where Spathian currently sat.
“Move.”
Spathian immediately stood and relocated without resistance whatsoever.
“That seat belongs to me beside my beloved big sister.”
Ryn covered part of her face with one hand.
Ronan then produced flowers.
Of course he did.
He placed them gently beside Ryn before handing her a decorated box.
"I bought you the newest fashion designs from the western merchants.”
Ryn looked exhausted before even opening it.
“I already told you I don’t wear those things.”
“You should give them to one of the countless women obsessed with you instead.”
Ronan visibly pouted.
“I simply love my sister.”
The entire exchange happened with such sincerity that nobody around the table even questioned it anymore.
At some point during dinner, I quietly realized something important.
Ryn was somehow the most normal member of this family.
That realization genuinely unsettled me.
The strange part was that despite all the absurdity—
The dinner never felt chaotic in a bad way.
Warmth existed everywhere around the table.
In the teasing.
In the sighs.
In the way Madam Roderick already anticipated disaster whenever Spathian smiled too confidently.
In the way Master Roderick listened seriously when Ronan later began discussing shipping contracts and military logistics.
I watched him praise his youngest son sincerely without restraint.
Not formal approval.
Genuine pride.
And somehow that surprised me more than the spoon.
Near the end of the evening, while conversations drifted elsewhere around the table, Madam Roderick suddenly turned toward me.
Her smile was gentle.
Calm.
“I’ve heard a great deal about you from Ryn.”
I nearly stopped breathing.
Then she added softly:
“Please take care of her for me.”
For several seconds, I genuinely did not know how to respond.
I remember glancing toward Ryn instinctively.
She looked equally confused.
Which somehow made the statement even more dangerous.
Even now, I still do not fully understand what Madam Roderick meant by it.
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