The corridors of the inn were deserted and silent. The red carpet muffled his footsteps. The oil lamps on the walls had already burned out during the night, and the gray light of dawn entered through the small windows at the end of the corridor.

He descended the stairs cautiously.

Step by step, feeling the cold wood beneath his sandals. His left hand on the railing, his right adjusting his tunic. Tilbo on his shoulder, quiet now, as if she also understood that silence was necessary.

In the main hall, the attendant from the previous night was arranging the tables.

She was a middle-aged woman with brown hair tied in a bun, wearing the inn’s uniform, a white apron over a dark blue dress. Her name was... Lukas could not remember the introductions from the previous day.

She did not notice him immediately.

The wooden counter was tall, and Lukas was small. Very small. He had to stand on tiptoe, stretching his body, craning his neck, and speaking a little louder than he would have liked.

"Good morning."

The attendant leaned over the counter in surprise. Her green eyes widened slightly, then she smiled when she recognized him.

"Good morning, young Master Dmond." She replied, her voice low but warm.

"You’re up early. Do you need something?"

"I want food. And water, please."

"Of course. Sit at that table over there. I’ll bring something simple right away."

Lukas nodded and walked to the table closest to the window, a small table made of dark wood with two chairs. He placed his hands on the edge of the chair, lifted himself up with a little effort, and managed to climb onto it by himself.

’Getting easier every day.’

He placed Tilbo on the table.

The ant remained still, her antennae twitching as she waited. Her metallic body gleamed under the dim light of the hall, reflecting the fireplace flames in silver points.

The woman brought a tray with fresh bread cut into small pieces. A little soft white cheese, creamy and mild, with the taste of goat’s milk, sliced fruit, red apples, yellow pears, and the small sour fruits Lukas had already learned were called Lirium, along with a large glass of fresh water.

"Thank you." Lukas said politely.

The woman smiled and returned to the counter, leaving him alone.

Lukas began to eat.

He broke off small pieces of bread, crumbs really, and offered them to Tilbo, placing them on the table in front of her. The ant approached, her strong mandibles crushing the bread into tiny fragments before swallowing. The sound was soft, a rhythmic crunch, crunch, crunch.

After the bread came the cheese. Tilbo ate it with less enthusiasm. She seemed to prefer the bread, but she ate it anyway.

Then Lukas carefully tilted the glass of water, pouring a small sip onto the table near Tilbo. The ant approached and drank, her mandibles moving rapidly as she absorbed the water.

"Good." Lukas whispered as he watched.

"Happy now?"

Tilbo slowly moved her antennae.

They ate together, Lukas biting into a piece of bread, Tilbo crushing another, Lukas taking a sip of water, and Tilbo drinking another.

It was a strange sight, without a doubt. A ten-month-old boy and an ant the size of his hand, sharing breakfast in an inn in the City of the Great Rock.

But Lukas did not care.

It was at that moment that he heard Aurora’s voice.

It came from the second floor, muffled by the walls, but carrying a clear tone of concern.

"Lukas?!"

He raised his head, his mouth full of bread.

"I’m down here, Mom!" He shouted back, his voice echoing through the hall.

Aurora came down the stairs slightly disheveled.

Her white hair was messy, lacking its usual style, falling over her shoulders in tangled waves. She still wore her sleeping gown, a long white linen dress, wrinkled and marked from the pillow. Her feet were bare.

When she saw her son calmly sitting at the table, eating with Tilbo on the polished wood, she let out a long sigh of relief mixed with irritation.

She quickly approached, ignoring the curious glances of the other guests who had already come down for breakfast, two merchants, a family with three children, and a thin old man reading a scroll while drinking tea.

All of them were staring at the metallic ant on the table.

"You!" Aurora stopped beside the chair, her hands at her sides.

"How can you go wandering around without telling us? What if something happened? What if you got lost? What if..."

Lukas lowered his head slightly.

He knew she was right. He was a baby. A baby who could talk, walk, and possessed tremendous strength, but still... a baby. In everyone’s eyes, including his mother’s, he was vulnerable.

"I understand." He said quietly.

"Sorry, Mom. Next time, I’ll always tell you first."

Aurora watched him for a second. Her face was still tense, her violet eyes still shining with the lingering fright.

Then her expression softened.

She patted his head, ruffling his white hair.

"Good boy." Her voice was calmer now.

"Just don’t do it again, alright?"

"Alright."

"Never disappear on your own again, Lukas. Understand? Never."

"Yes, Mom."

Aurora kissed his forehead and sat down in the chair beside him, still taking deep breaths to calm herself.

Tilbo, on the table, moved her antennae toward Aurora, as if she were apologizing too.

Soon after, Clavor and Judite came downstairs.

Clavor was already dressed, wearing a dark blue tunic and leather trousers, and his hair was combed back, still damp, as though he had washed his face before coming down.

His eyes automatically swept across the hall, as always, before settling on Lukas.

"Up early." He commented, sitting in the chair across from his son.

"Tilbo was hungry." Lukas explained, pointing at the ant.

Clavor looked at Tilbo. The ant did not move.

"Hm."

Judite was still yawning, her eyes heavy, her hair just as messy as Aurora’s. She stumbled on the last stair and nearly fell, but Clavor caught her arm at the last second.

"Careful."

"I’m tired." Judite mumbled, sitting beside Lukas and resting her head on his shoulder.

"You slept for ten hours." Aurora said.

"How can you be tired?"

"I slept badly."

"You snored."

"I do not snore!"

"You did. You sounded like a little bear."

Judite pouted but did not argue.