The sedan slipped into the Lightward escort lane and traffic thinned. Patrol beacons pulsed at measured intervals, tapping the glass like a soft metronome. The driver's hands sat at ten and two—the posture of someone who'd outlived noise and now preferred silence.
From behind the tinted window, Harin watched the frightened city pass in neat panes of shadow and light. She drew her gaze back inside.
"Your sister must mean a lot to you," she said.
"She's my little goof and the last of our family," I said. "We're two goofs who complete each other." I laughed under my breath.
The corner of Harin's mouth moved—not quite a smile, more like a gentle verdict. "Good. There are many who chase the stage at Novarion. It's rare to prefer protecting over performing."
The driver cleared his throat with theatrical care. "Careful, Miss. A compliment from you can be hazardous."
"I don't do compliments," Harin said, eyes still on the glass. "I state facts."
I let out a breath I hadn't noticed I was holding. "Truth isn't always kind," I said. "If people wake up believing tomorrow will be worse, they collapse faster than the monsters can make them—and then the world collapses."
Harin gave a small, warm laugh. "You're more polite and thoughtful than I expected. Are you fragile, Junheon?"
"Not while Mira's watching."
The driver's shoulders rose with a short, quiet chuckle. "Solid answer, sir."
Harin turned a little further toward me. "When you show up in a black sedan with an escort pass, what will your sister say?"
"She'll say I struck it rich," I said. "Then she'll ask where it came from. And finally she'll demand snacks—the important part."
"Someone I'll like," Harin said—frank and sincere at once.
"She's easy to like," I said. "As long as she doesn't play the little-sister card."
"The little-sister card?" the driver asked, amused.
"Sibling law," I said. "Article One: Everything at home belongs to the sweetest person."
"Enforced under Lightward authority?" Harin asked.
"Under Mira authority," I said. "A higher court."
The corner of Harin's mouth curved again, as if a secret checked the time. "Then we don't move without dessert. Driver?"
"Yes, Miss."
"If there's a vendor near Naves, let's buy something sweet."
"Understood." He glanced into the mirror. "GPS says: two minutes to the secure arterial."
Some of the tension in me dropped a notch. "How strong is this vehicle?"
"As strong as it is beautiful," the driver said. "The Big Boss paid well. Top-grade chemicals and explosives won't mark this finish."
Harin tapped a slow rhythm on the door armrest. "You bake at KN Bakery, right? Across from the new mall where the old hospital used to be?"
"Yes—across from the mall. It's busy, but we still have plenty of regulars. The owner is excellent," I said, then caught myself. "Yes. There."
"No problem," Harin said. "We can't stop now; but if I drop by unannounced, will there be a discount?"
"There's a special rate for intimidating heiresses and their legendary retired chauffeurs," I said.
"Don't exaggerate, sir," the driver murmured.
I looked out to hide a smile. The city had softened: fewer shuttered alleys, more watchful lights; the anxious rhythm of distant blocks settling into a steady hum. A Lightward checkpoint saluted us through.
"Secure arterial," the driver announced.
Harin traced the window's edge with a fingertip; a crescent of fog appeared and faded without a mark. "When this is over, and the noise stays noise behind us—what do you want, Junheon?"
"Stability for Mira," I said. "And enough room to breathe without counting the cost."
"Reasonable," she said. "I prefer reasonable to grand."
"You don't look like someone who avoids grand," I said.
"I avoid waste," she said. "Grandeur is often waste, dressed well."
The sedan slid past plain brick buildings and a tidy square with a fountain that pretended to be old. We'd arrived. Students in navy uniforms were spilling hurriedly out of the Naves gate. The air felt like a kept promise.
The driver slowed and checked the mirror once more. "Approaching the entrance. In this ring, Lightward operates openly. I'll park where everyone can see."
"Perfect," I said. "Mira likes an audience when she lectures me."
Harin cracked the window, gave the quickest smile. "We'll try not to interrupt the process."
I turned back. "Thank you—truly. When you visit, I'll treat you to our best pastries. I'll go grab my little goof now. Please wait here."
The driver nodded. "I'll handle the sweets; you bring your sister." He closed the door; Harin remained inside.
---
I walked to the school gate. A Lightward patrol scanned from a distance. The post-bell crowd was flowing.
Mira spotted me with two friends and sprinted over, throwing her arms around my neck.
"Big bro!"
"Easy—breathe," I said, tightening her hair clip.
Her friends' eyes flicked from the sedan to me. Around us, students and a couple of teachers whispered:
"Is that the scholarship brother?"
"That car… looks expensive."
Mira grinned. "Yep. That's my crazy brother: fifty percent handsome, fifty percent workaholic."
One girl found her courage. "Is it true you got into Novarion on a scholarship?"
"True," I said. "Your rumor mill is fast."
Mira hooked her arm through mine. "We're taking the car, right? I need to show off a tiny bit."
"No showing off," I said. "We're just going home."
"If we pick up dessert on the way, it's not showing off," Mira said, smirking.
Right then the driver came back with two paper bags, a little out of breath.
"Report: two chocolate, one vanilla, one caramel, and one strawberry ice cream. Price normal. Receipt here. (The receipt has no flavor.)"
He secured the bags at the foot of the rear seat.
Mira raised a finger. "One chocolate is mine."
"One is yours," I said. "The other is shared. No calling dibs later, no sneaking bites." I turned to the driver. "Thank you. I'll take the strawberry if no one's claimed it."
Her friends edged closer, unable to help themselves. "Could you give us a ride too?"
"Car's full today—and I'm a guest myself," I said, laughing. "Next time I'll escort you on foot right to your door."
"Deal!" they said, staring at the sedan again.
Mira waved at the tinted rear window. "Hello… Beautiful lady in the car."
I tapped her lightly. "Be polite to strangers."
The window cracked the slightest bit; Harin's brief smile showed. "Your sister's bolder than you. It's fine—come on."
"Sorry for the disturbance," I said as we climbed in. Harin added, "Now that the little princess is here, let's enjoy ourselves."
Mira reached out with a playful tap. "What did I do now, big bro?"
"You're getting it, don't worry," I said. "Seatbelt first, then dessert."
"But I need it now—"
"Seatbelt first."
The driver set it in stone: "Procedure is clear: seatbelt first."
"Okay," Mira said, clicking it in. She waved to her friends. "I'll tell you tomorrow. Title: Sedan + Dessert = Fantastic."
"Write it when you get home!" they shouted, laughing.
The driver closed the doors, stowed the bags securely, and started the engine. "Ready? We'll take the secure route."
"Ready," I said. "Mira, seatbelt?"
"On. Dessert?"
Without opening her mouth, Mira held up the ice cream. "Ready."
"Got it… Our place is near the bakery. Drop us there; we'll walk the rest," I said.
"We'll get off there," Mira echoed. She tucked the wrapper neatly into her pocket. I handed her the strawberry. "Here, princess—save your strength."
"Best brother," she said, already softening.
"It's amazing she stays that slim after all this," Harin said.
"She has a pile of swimming medals," I said. "We're running out of shelf space at home."
The driver glanced into the mirror. "We're here, sir. Left side is clear. You can get out. Give me the trash, I'll bag it."
I passed the wrappers; Mira grabbed her bag. "Thanks again," we said, and stepped out.
"See you at school. Get home safe," Harin said as the driver pulled away.
Mira watched the car disappear, then looked at me. "Nice girlfriend, big bro," she teased.
I started to raise a hand, then stopped, sighed, and let it fall.
"Let's go home, princess."