Chapter 977

The orchard was still wrapped in bluish mist, soft as gauze and cool against his skin. Dew glittered on every leaf and ribbon, the glyph trees seeming half-dreamt in the haze. Susan stood near the cooking ring, sleeves rolled, hair already tied back, her presence solid and grounding as ever. Layla knelt beside her, blowing on a small flame as it caught under dry bark.

"Morning," Jude murmured as he approached.

"Morning," Susan replied, sparing him a glance as she stirred chopped roots in a pot. "You slept in."

"Grace needed the warmth." He said it with a small grin, and Layla smirked without looking up.

"Whole camp could catch fire and that woman wouldn't notice as long as you were wrapped around her."

"That's not true," came Grace's sleepy voice behind him. She stood wrapped in a shawl, hair tousled from sleep, but her eyes were awake and soft with affection. "He's the one who never hears the firewood splitting."