Baobhan Sith drifted through the halls of Chaldea, the echo of Morgan’s voice still lingering in her mind like a heavy mist. Their conversation had been terse, as it always was. Morgan was never one for warmth or reassurances, even though Baobhan Sith’s every action was dedicated to proving her worth as Morgan’s heir. Today had been no different—another reminder of expectations, another reminder of her flaws, and, perhaps worst of all, another reminder of the ever-present feeling that she would never be quite enough.

Just once, she thought bitterly, it would be nice to hear that I’m... worthy.

She kept her gaze low as she moved through Chaldea, hoping to avoid prying eyes and unwelcome questions. The facility was as busy as ever, bustling with servants preparing for missions, training, or simply passing the time. She could hear the sound of sparring from one of the training rooms, the metallic clash of swords and the occasional shout of encouragement. Down the hall, a few Casters were deep in conversation, likely discussing the finer points of some arcane spellwork. She noticed a pair of Riders laughing together as they shared tales of past adventures, their voices filled with easy camaraderie.

Baobhan Sith looked away, swallowing down the pang of envy that rose in her chest. She’d never had the luxury of such friendships, of that lightness so many of the others carried. Her world was one of shadows and expectations, a life molded by Morgan’s teachings and sharpened by her own experiences. The other Fairy Knights had struggled too—Barghest and Melusine each had their own wounds—but somehow, they’d found a way to carve out spaces for themselves here.