When it came to rep to the Baron, they were sparse oails, at least the parts relevant to Natalie and her css. They had discussed the dilemma ourn trip to Tarenhelm: the bao strike between the Baron's o know what was going on around his city and Natalie's need for secrecy. She didn't want to divulge everything about rousing goddesses and her css's involvement.

  They ended up giving him a mostly true report, as far as the practical details went. They had found, fought, aed a goblin with golden veins, who was signifitly strohan a goblin ought to be—on par with a level three boss. They suspected simir creatures might be ihe base, and so they had returo recuperate before tag the final fight. They suspected all of it had something to do with their aberrant h behavior.

  Ultimately, the Baron deserved to be appraised of the threat harassing his city, but only insofar as it didn't reveal too much about their personal situation. The ck of full disclosure didn't feel like it was a huge deal sihey would be heading out and clearing the goblin base the very day.

  Te, however, would be getting a more detailed report. It ossible Natalie aeam had been assigo this goblin iion in the first pce because Te had already suspected something odd was going on—possibly eveails. Clearly, the waking Passions weren't as isoted a phenomenon as Natalie had assumed. Not only did Elida clearly know about it, but there were also surface monsters running around attuo Greed.

  It seemed uo Natalie—aeam, sihis had been a group discussion—that across the entire world, these were the only monsters sponsored by a deity and behaving strangely. It was more than possible that the Passions were w on a far rger scale, even, and that Natalie's position as a padin and these goblins' imbuement was nearly irrelevant on the global stage. Though they had no way to firm or deny that. They simply aowledged the possibility.

  Oheir meeting with the Baron had cluded, they returo the Kraken's Hearth to rest and recover for the day.

  Liz pulled Natalie aside just after she had finished sh. Closing the door behind her, she studied Natalie with a far more serious expression than she was used to seeing.

  "What's up?"

  Liz sighed, then walked over and sat on the bed, tug her hands underh her thighs. She idly kicked bad forward, still studying her with that uncharacteristic seriousness. It went on food several seds.

  "We o talk."

  "Yeah," Natalie said. "I guessed that when you said, 'Nat, we o talk.'"

  She could've imagined Liz pouting at the friendly sarcasm in a normal circumstance, but the royal kept her serious faatalie sobered up, realizing that whatever she wao talk about really was important.

  "It's about what we learned," Liz said. "And us. As in, our team, and you, and all of it."

  "Figured." It'd been the nonstop topic of discussion since leaving the Duskwood.

  "But specifically about me," she tinued. "Or rather, my family."

  "The Beaumons?"

  Liz bit her lip. She seemed tle with what to say for a sed. "When we were first learning about all of this," she said, "I had thought you'd been given some strange and powerful css, but not something that could shape Valhaur's trajectory as a kingdom. So I was keeping it a secret, because that's what friends do." She shifted unfortably around on her bed, seeming mildly distressed as she looked at Natalie. "But it's being obvious the scope of this is expanding ast what any of us had assumed."

  That was true. From the beginning, Natalie had known that the situation with her css was no minor, irrelevant matter—not with the Bestower's involvement and the strange ents she'd made. Yet her enta with unknowable forces like the Dungeon and slumbering goddesses was esg at a pace she struggled to e to terms with.

  And Natalie wasn't stupid; she could see where Liz was going.

  "You want to tell your family."

  "I have an obligation to tell my family," Liz corrected. "To my parents, the King, and Valhaur and its people. I think I've already put it off for too long. But now that it's leaking into the outside world, with monsters imbued by the Passions attag cities, killing people, I 't keep hiding it." The distraught expression grew. "But I also have an obligation to a friend, who entrusted me with her secrets."

  Natalie sat on the bed and sidered. She'd seen this ing. How could she not? It was exactly as Liz said: the scope of this matter had grown te for something like Natalie's embarrassment to stop them from sharing it with the appropriate authorities.

  In fact, the biggest reason she wao keep a low profile now was for Malice's sake. While having to expin her css and what she knew of it to a man like the literal king of Valhaur would be mortifying, ultimately, she wasn't in danger of him, besides maybe in being a pawn, and a quick departure from normalcy. But revealing Malice might end up with her in a b somewhere, to be studied and questioned. Likely without much for Malice herself.

  Liz kept speakiher because she was nervous and couldn't stand the brief silence, or she mistook Natalie's ption for displeasure.

  "I'm not saying I'm going to go behind your bad tell my parents everything I know," Liz said. "Si's still your secret." She tittered nervously. "But I am gonna try really, really hard to vince you that that's what you should do."

  It wasn't hard to see that the fli her loyalties was tearing her up; it had probably been why she'd been so quiet on the way bae. Natalie had just thought she'd been thinking things over. And she had, just not in the way she'd assumed.

  Natalie briefly wondered whether if she insisted on not telling the Beaumons, if Liz would anyway. Logically speaking, Natalie could hardly bme the girl for not taking her royal duties lightly, but the idea also left a sour taste in her mouth, however logical it would be.

  By how dismayed the pirl looked, though, it was obvious it wasn't an easy choice—but also that she was sidering the eventuality.

  "Okay," Natalie said.

  "Okay?"

  "You think it's a good idea?"

  Liz perked up, sensing that maybe there was an amicable solution to her dilemma, that this didn't have to end in the worst-case sario. She nodded rapidly, her bck hair boung with the eager motion.

  "I do. And I'm not just saying that. Here's my reasoning why."