The sun began to clear the rooftops when Liora stirred. A shaft of early light crept across the wooden floor. Her sword, leaning against the wall untouched for once, it could wait.
What didn't wait, however, was the small figure that had somehow migrated from her bedroll and was now curled up snugly beside Liora, her tiny fingers tangled in the fabric of Liora's undershirt.
Liora stared at the ceiling for a long moment, unsure whether to laugh or sigh.
"Guess I'm not sleeping in anymore," she muttered.
Aria's brow twitched as she snuggled in closer.
Liora let her rest a bit longer before gently nudging her awake. They dressed slowly, the way small children always insisted on doing everything themselves, even if that meant a mismatched outfit and an inside-out tunic. Liora fixed it with a soft tug and a quiet smile.
Downstairs in the inn's common room, the innkeeper's wife, Marna, had set out warm bread, goat cheese, and a thick apple jam. Liora offered a coin, but the woman waved her off with a grin.
"You're raising a little one now," she said. "That earns a few breakfasts."
Liora was too tired to argue. Aria, meanwhile, had already smeared jam from cheek to chin.
After breakfast, they stopped at the bath house to clean up, which turned into a small battlefield of splashes and one overturned basin. Liora gave up trying to stay dry by the end and simply dunked her head along with Aria's, both of them laughing like fools.
She couldn't remember the last time she laughed like that.
The rest of the morning passed in gentle chaos. Aria wanted to sweep the floor with a broom half her size. Then she decided her doll was a knight and needed a proper name. Liora helped her come up with one, Sir Bramble.
They read a little, or rather, Liora read while Aria mostly looked at the pictures. Then it was time for chores. Laundry. Organizing supplies. Prepping her gear, just in case.
That evening, Liora sat by the window, sharpening her sword while Aria played quietly on the rug with a stack of carved wooden animals.
The lamplight flickered. Outside, the village settled into its nighttime hush.
"Mommy," Aria said, glancing up.
Liora looked over. "Mm?"
"Do mommies always have to be strong?"
The question caught her off guard. She set the whetstone down.
"I think," she said slowly, "moms don't always have to be strong. But they always try to be. Even when they're tired."
Aria nodded at that, like it made sense in her world.
Liora leaned back in the chair.
"…You make it worth trying," she added.
Aria smiled and crawled into her lap without another word.
That night, after Aria had fallen asleep curled beside her, Liora sat awake for a while longer, watching the stars through the window.
She still didn't know what tomorrow would bring.
But for the first time in a long while, she was no longer walking through it alone.