They left Puski Lane as the sun was going down.

There were two carriages; in one of them sat Jake and Gran Rosalinda, while other women sat in the second carriage. They had given Rosalinda more space so she could rest. As it was a long journey to the capital.

Eskar rode with the escort at the front of the column. The Dragon Maidens surrounded the carriages on all sides. Not because they expected trouble. Because this was how House Raikarndel traveled when they were bringing their young master home and they were going to do it properly.

The town watched them go.

Jake sat in the carriage with Gran Rosalinda across from him and watched the house on the lane get smaller through the window. Fifteen years in that house and the memories of living with Chelsea. He didn’t feel any particular sense of loss but only thought that his peace had come to an end; he was sure of it. All this while he had been living lazily and just passing his days in this world, and it was all he wanted.

That version of himself felt very far away right now.

Gran Rosalinda watched him watch the house disappear.

After a while she spoke.

"Are you afraid?" she asked.

Jake thought about it.

"Yes," he said honestly.

"Good," Gran Rosalinda said.

"Fear means you’re paying attention. But don’t worry about Chelsea and me; we will be with you going forward."

The carriage rolled on.

The valley road opened up ahead of them. The same road Jake had traveled with Eskar two days ago on the way to the escort mission. The same road where everything had changed at a rest stop with an old stone wall.

Gran Rosalinda shifted in her seat.

Then, without asking permission, she moved across the carriage and settled beside Jake. She looked up at him with those bright clear eyes.

"I hated you for a while," she said quietly.

Jake looked down at her.

"When Chelsea first brought you home. You had become her life, and it made her distant to me, and my hate towards you started on that day.

Gran Rosalinda said it matter-of-factly. Not apologizing, just stating something that was true. "Chelsea was my daughter. My only living child. She had her whole life ahead of her. And then she brought home a strange child from the lower district and suddenly her whole life became about you."

She paused as she ran her hand over his chest.

"I thought you would ruin her," she continued.

"I thought you would take everything from her and give nothing back. I was wrong about that. You gave her purpose. You gave her joy. You made her life bigger instead of smaller."

Gran Rosalinda smiled slightly. "So I stopped hating you."

"I couldn’t realize that fact because of my hatred towards you. But now I understand."

Jake didn’t know what to say to that.

Gran Rosalinda settled her head against his shoulder. Then she adjusted slightly and laid it on his thigh instead. Getting comfortable. Making herself at home in the way that old women made themselves at home wherever they decided to be.

"I’m happy now," she said softly.

"Seeing you like this. Going home to where you belong. Becoming what you were always meant to be." Her eyes closed.

"I’m happy I got to see it."

Jake sat very still.

The carriage wheels turned steadily beneath them, the rhythm of hooves and wood against the packed ground path filling the silence. Jake’s hand hovered uncertainly for a moment before settling on Gran Rosalinda’s shoulder, light as a moth’s wing.

She made a small sound, not quite a sigh, and pressed closer.

Through the window, the valley stretched out in shades of deepening violet. The road curved along the river’s edge, and Jake could see the escort riders ahead, their silhouettes sharp against the dying light. Eskar rode at their head, back straight, scanning the treeline with the practiced ease of someone who had done this a thousand times. Once in a while, he glanced back at the carriage, trying to see Jake out of fear.

"You know," Gran Rosalinda murmured, not opening her eyes, "your Auntie used to do this when she was small. Fall asleep on my lap during carriage rides. Always claimed the motion put her right out."

Jake’s fingers stilled. "She never told me that."

"No. She wouldn’t have. Chelsea was always terrible at talking about herself."

"You have changed her and you also changed me, my dear."

The words hung differently in the air now.

Jake felt her hand shift, not settling back to rest but moving with deliberate purpose. His breath caught as her fingers found the buckle of his trousers, working the leather with the same practiced ease she’d used a thousand times for a thousand other tasks. The clasp gave way with a soft click that seemed impossibly loud in the quiet of the carriage.

"Gran—"

"Hush," she whispered, and there was something in her voice he’d never heard before. Something raw and hungry. "You just fucked me the other day, ignited a flame inside me, and left, and I have waited for you. And now Granny needs it."

Her hand slipped inside his trousers, finding him soft and warm against his thigh. Her fingers wrapped around his length with a gentleness that belied the boldness of the act, and she began to stroke him slowly and deliberately, watching his face with those bright clear eyes that missed nothing.

Jake’s hands gripped the velvet seat cushion beneath him.

Her thumb traced the ridge of his cock, and he hardened under her touch despite every protest his brain could muster. She felt it and smiled at it, a small knowing curve of her lips that was nothing like the grandmotherly warmth he knew.

"See?" she breathed.

"You are changed."

She lowered her head.

The first touch of her mouth was shockingly hot, her lips parting to take the head of his cock inside, her tongue circling the sensitive crown with an expertise that spoke of decades of practice. Jake’s hips bucked involuntarily, and her free hand pressed down on his stomach, a warning, a command.

Be still. Be silent.