Steven’s POV
Aqua was already standing.
Already ready to do something about it.
And I realized, a second too late, that when Aqua said she would help, she did not mean eventually.
She meant now.
For a second, I stayed on the couch, elbows on my knees, hands hanging loose between them, feeling too wrung out from the week to move quickly and too hopeful now to sit still for long.
Aqua crossed into the open kitchen area, where Fredrick’s card still sat tucked near the fruit bowl and her folded garden notes.
When she picked it up, I straightened.
Then immediately hated how obvious that probably was.
Aqua glanced back at me, already knowing.
“You want me to do it now?”
“Yes,” I said.
Too fast.
I cleared my throat and tried again.
“If you’re still willing.”
Aqua’s expression softened.
“I am.”
She dialed before I could overthink it.
The line rang once.
Twice.
Then clicked.
I could barely hear Fredrick’s voice from where I sat.
Only the shape of it.
Cool.
Precise.
Too calm.
“Miss Aqua,” he said, faint through the phone.
Aqua straightened slightly.
“Fredrick. I hope I am not calling at a bad time.”
His reply came too low for me to catch clearly.
I heard the tone more than the words.
Unsurprised.
Maybe even mildly amused.
Aqua’s gaze flicked toward me.
Whatever he had said, it made her pause.
That was enough.
I pushed off the couch and came closer, stopping beside her at the counter.
“Put it on speaker,” I whispered.
Aqua blinked.
“What?”
“Speakerphone,” I whispered. “So I can hear too.”
She looked down at the screen like the correct button might politely identify itself.
Right.
Human technology.
“It’s that one,” I murmured, reaching past her and tapping the speaker icon before I could think too hard about how close I had just gotten.
The phone gave a small sound as Fredrick’s voice shifted into the open room.
“With enough warning,” Fredrick was saying, “I might have said yes. As it stands, no.”
Then, after the smallest pause:
“I wondered when one of you would call.”
I stared at the phone.
Of course he did.
Aqua set the phone carefully on the counter between us, as if placing it too hard might offend the device.
I tried not to look relieved that I could hear him now.
Tried and probably failed.
Fredrick was silent for exactly one second too long.
Then he said, “Am I on display?”
Aqua’s cheeks colored faintly.
I cleared my throat.
“I wanted to hear too.”
“Yes,” Fredrick replied dryly. “I gathered that.”
Aqua folded one hand lightly over the other, regaining her composure faster than I did.
“I am calling about Steven’s familiar,” she said. “Fang.”
There was a beat of silence.
Not surprise.
More like Fredrick allowing the obvious to be said properly.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
Then he said, “Go on.”
Aqua glanced at me once before continuing.
“I believe Fang may be more important to Steven’s training than we first realized.”
I leaned one shoulder lightly against the counter, arms crossed, pretending I was here in a casual and normal way and not because every part of me was braced for the answer.
Fredrick’s voice stayed even.
“In what sense?”
Aqua answered calmly.
“He helps regulate Steven. Emotionally, yes, but also practically. Steven is steadier with him. More focused.”
Fredrick did not respond right away.
I could practically hear him thinking in exact little squares.
Finally, he asked, “Is this Steven’s assessment, yours, or both?”
“Both,” Aqua said.
Then she looked at me.
I understood the cue immediately and straightened a little.
“He helps,” I said.
My own voice sounded rougher than I wanted it to.
I tried again.
“He really does. I train better when he’s there.”
Fredrick’s pause this time was shorter.
“Better how?”
I rubbed my thumb against the inside of my wrist.
“Less in my head,” I admitted. “Less… scattered, I guess.”
There.
That was humiliating enough for one evening.
Aqua took over again before I had to explain myself any further.
“He gives Steven a point of regulation,” she said. “Something familiar enough to steady him while he is still learning to hold his own control.”
Fredrick was quiet for a moment.
Then:
“You believe the familiar improves restraint.”
It was not exactly a question.
Aqua answered it anyway.
“Yes.”
Another pause.
Then Fredrick said, “Has Steven’s inconsistency worsened?”
I stared at the kitchen floor for one second.
Aqua could have softened it.
She didn’t.
“Yes,” she said.
That should have embarrassed me more than it did.
Instead, all I felt was the strange relief of hearing the truth said plainly.
Fredrick’s tone did not change.
“Has he lost control?”
“No,” Aqua said. “Not fully.”
Not fully.
That was somehow worse than yes or no.
I looked away and scrubbed one hand over the back of my neck.
Fredrick spoke again, slower this time.
“And you are confident the serpent remains loyal to Steven?”
This time, I answered first.
“Yes.”
The word came out sharper than I intended.
Then I added, quieter, “I trust him.”
Fredrick made a thoughtful sound too soft to fully read.
“That is not, in itself, proof of safety.”
“No,” I said. “But it’s true anyway.”
Aqua spoke before the silence could turn against me.
“I give you my word that Fang’s presence would help Steven,” she said. “Not only emotionally. Practically. Structurally. He is calmer when the familiar is near.”
The kitchen went still.
I looked at Aqua.
She had not rushed those words. Had not dressed them up. Had not made them sound like a favor.
She had made them sound like fact.
And somehow that hit harder.
Fredrick took another second.
Then another.
When he finally spoke, his voice was as exact as ever.
“Very well.”
I blinked.
Aqua went very still beside the counter.
Fredrick continued.
“The familiar may be granted limited residence under conditions.”
Relief hit so fast it almost made me dizzy.
I grabbed the edge of the counter and held very still, because apparently dignity was still pretending to matter.
Aqua nodded once even though he couldn’t see her.
“We understand.”
“Condition one,” Fredrick said, in the same tone he might have used to explain chemical handling procedures or murder, “the serpent is restricted to the assigned house and designated training field. No independent movement elsewhere in Worthington.”
That was fair.
Aqua looked at me once before saying, “Understood.”
“Condition two: the familiar is not to enter private homes, shops, public gathering spaces, or any protected area beyond those already named.”
Also fair.
Aqua nodded again.
“Yes.”
“Condition three: the familiar is not to injure, threaten, spy upon, or otherwise interfere with any resident of Worthington. If such a violation occurs, permission is revoked immediately.”
That one felt pointed.
Probably because it was.
Still fair.
I answered that one myself.
“He won’t.”
Fredrick did not acknowledge the certainty in my voice one way or the other.
He only continued.
“Transport will be arranged tomorrow morning through a designated portal. Someone from the estate staff will bring the familiar directly to the rear garden entrance.”
Tomorrow morning.
The words landed in me so hard I almost stopped hearing the rest.
Tomorrow morning.
Fang would be here tomorrow morning.
Not eventually.
Not after another week of trying to prove I could fall apart politely.
Tomorrow.
Something in my chest lifted so fast it almost hurt.
Aqua said, “Thank you.”
Fredrick was quiet for one final beat.
Then:
“I trust, Miss Aqua, that if you are giving me your word in this matter, it is because you intend that word to mean something.”
Aqua did not hesitate.
“Yes.”
The steadiness in her voice made something tighten and loosen in me at the same time.
Fredrick’s answer came just as measured.
“Good.”
That was the most Fredrick response possible.
Then, almost as an afterthought:
“Tell Steven not to waste the opportunity.”
I frowned immediately.
“I’m standing right—”
The line clicked dead before I could finish.
I stared at the phone.
Aqua stared at the phone.
Then I looked at her.
“Did he just hang up on me specifically?”
Aqua’s mouth twitched.
“I believe he concluded the matter.”
“That is an aggressively polite way to describe being dismissed.”
Aqua finally let herself smile.
Small.
Real.
Tired around the edges, but real.
I leaned back against the counter and let out a breath so deep it felt like I had been holding it for days.
Maybe I had.
Aqua picked the phone up and set it back in place on the counter.
For one second, neither of us said anything.
Then she turned fully toward me.
“He said yes.”
There was still a part of me that needed to hear it again, apparently.
“Yeah,” I said softly. “I caught that.”
Aqua’s expression gentled.
“And he did not sound opposed,” she added. “Only exact.”
“That sounds like him.”
“Yes.”
The room felt different now.
Not fixed.
Nothing that dramatic.
Just lighter.
Like tomorrow had stopped being another wall I had to throw myself at and become something I could actually picture surviving.
Aqua rested one hand lightly on the counter and watched me for a second.
“You look relieved.”
I gave her a tired look.
“I am trying very hard to keep that from being humiliatingly obvious.”
“That is not working.”
“Traitor.”
Aqua smiled a little wider at that.
I looked past her toward the darkening window over the sink.
Tomorrow morning.
The designated portal.
Fang back in the house.
Fang back in the field.
The thought of training no longer felt like walking into an empty place with only the worst parts of my own head for company.
That alone felt like a miracle.
I looked back at Aqua.
“Thank you.”
She blinked once, as if she had not quite expected me to say it that directly.
Then she softened in that way she always did when I accidentally let the real version of what I was feeling show first.
“You do not have to thank me.”
“I know.”
I paused.
“Still.”
Aqua held my gaze for a second longer.
Then nodded once.
“All right.”
The quiet that followed felt easier than the ones before it had.
Not strained.
Not careful.
Just tired in a better way.
I dragged a hand through my hair and let out one breath through my nose.
“For the record,” I said, “I do not appreciate that he heard ‘emotionally regulated by snake’ and somehow made it sound like a formal security arrangement.”
Aqua’s mouth twitched.
“That is because Fredrick can make almost anything sound like a formal security arrangement.”
“That is one of the most unsettling things about him.”
“One of?”
“At minimum.”
That got another small laugh out of her.
Then the room settled again.
Late light had faded from the window by then, leaving the kitchen softer and dimmer around us. Somewhere beyond the back doors, the training field waited behind the trees. Somewhere beyond that, tomorrow had already started taking shape in my head.
Portal.
Fang.
Better focus.
Less static.
Maybe not easy.
Maybe not even good.
But possible.
And right then, possible was enough.
Aqua moved first, reaching for the kettle again like there were still ordinary things to do tonight.
There were.
That felt strange too.
Good, but strange.
I leaned against the counter beside her and watched the water begin to heat.
For the first time all week, tomorrow didn’t feel like another thing to survive.
It felt like something that might actually help.