Chapter 48: Connotation and Eye Drops.
As morning light bathed Victory Day Statue Plaza, the jacketed youth, Peter, stood with a twitching mouth, staring at Suna and her large group of “friends.”
Boon, Mist, Skoll, Ace, and Frosti sat at a table on the second-floor terrace of the renowned restaurant [Sunlit Hearth].
Peter, realizing his main surveillance target was among them, felt a headache brewing.
“Saintess Suna, we’re eating here instead of training? And who’s he?” Boon asked.
Suna gestured enthusiastically. “A generous friend I met yesterday, Peter. His companions were too shy to join.”
Her playful jab made Mist smirk, sensing something. “Feels like you’ve got dirt on him, Saintess. Poor guy, what’s he in for?”
Mist’s sympathetic glance at Peter was met with Skoll’s wary frown. Though he saw no obvious issues, Skoll found Peter odd.
“Thanks, Saintess,” Ace said. “I’m shocked Skoll agreed to this. How’d you convince him?”
“Yeah!” Frosti added. “If Skoll’s body could handle it, he’d live in the training grounds or library. Teach us your persuasion tricks!”
Skoll cut in, exasperated. “Stop it, you two. I’m focused on training and studying for a reason. I only joined to repay Suna’s kindness yesterday.”
Peter finally spoke, masking his frustration. “Saintess Suna, I didn’t expect so many friends. Looks like I’m in for a big bill. What a coincidence.”
His glance at Skoll carried subtext, which Suna caught.
[Oh, you’re salty because I invited your surveillance target? Well, I planned to stir trouble anyway.]
After Peter sat, Suna kicked off the gathering. “Everyone’s here, so let’s start. This is to celebrate our first meeting as friends.”
With deft water magic, she popped the caps off seven beer bottles on the table.
As she raised her bottle for a toast, Mist couldn’t hold back. “Saintess, you’re drinking like that?”
“What’s wrong? It’s morning, so I’ll keep it light,” Suna said, flashing an OK sign.
Mist and Frosti gaped, while Boon and Ace looked stunned.
Skoll, the quietest, commented dryly, “Saintess Suna, you’re quite the drinker.”
“I love it, but no dwarf blood here. Cheers!” Suna joked.
The group clinked glasses in a bemused atmosphere, kicking off the meal.
Waiters brought dishes Suna ordered—mid-to-high-end, not exorbitantly priced, to Peter’s surprise.
Suna started with light, cheerful topics to warm up the mood, making the gathering feel harmonious.
As Peter relaxed, estimating his wallet’s damage, Suna’s next words threw him off balance.
“Skoll, you’re a novice temple knight, right? Why were you sidelined here?”
Skoll frowned but answered candidly. “Like I mentioned yesterday, I got in trouble. Ace and Frosti insisted on following me, though they could’ve stayed in the temple…”
Frosti cut in, disgusted. “No way. That place felt stifling.”
Ace added, “Skoll, we’re a team. Where you go, we go. Without us, who knows how you’d mess yourself up?”
“That’s heavy,” Suna said. “Let’s switch—”
Peter tried to change the topic, avoiding Skoll’s temple experiences, but Suna interrupted with a mix of sympathy and indignation, subtly targeting him.
“Peter, they’re victims of exclusion! We should comfort them and find out who’s bullying these kids. As adults, we can’t ignore the struggles of the young.”
“Uh, we shouldn’t, but this is our first friendly gathering. Heavy topics…” Peter faltered.
“As a saintess, I can’t ignore this. Bottling up pain is wrong—share it. Right, Ace, Frosti?”
They nodded eagerly.
“Exactly!” Frosti said. “In temple training, injuries happen, but Skoll’s were excessive and frequent. He got subpar supplies and lousy healing potions. It’s outrageous!”
Suna smiled inwardly. Her plan’s first step—getting Skoll to open up about his temple struggles—had succeeded.