His hair is longer, running past his shoulders. His clothes, too, are more polished. He's wearing a black linen shirt underneath brass armor that's molded to his broad shoulders and muscled chest. At his waist, he has a thick belt that houses the scabbard of his sword—a dusty gold metal embedded with red rubies. His pants are tight around his leg muscles, framed by leather straps that hold a collection of daggers around his outer thighs.

Like this, he looks even more dangerous than before.

Yet there's one more striking feature.

On the right side of his face, rune-like tattoos run from his hairline down his neck, disappearing into the collar of his shirt. Half of his face is marred by those swirling black designs, so stark against the deep purple of his eyes.

Everyone is on their feet for his entrance, bowing slightly as they don't dare to make direct eye contact with him.

But while Rhea and Maros are behaving reverently in his presence, Thea is white as a sheet, her body trembling lightly as fear makes its home in her features.

Oh, God. She's scared he might be here to reveal her secret.

I stealthily grab her hand under the table, squeezing tight as I give her a comforting look.

She smiles sadly at me, her entire countenance dejected.

Damn you, Ze.

"Commander Azerius, what brings you here? We were not expecting you," Maros notes.

Ze doesn't acknowledge him as he surveys the dining room until his gaze lands on me. His jaw hardens, his eyes gleaming dangerously.

"Balthazar," he calls out, his voice thundering. All the while, he doesn't take his eyes off me as he lifts his hand, awaiting something.

A small man appears from behind, a leash in his hand, which he passes over to Ze.

He grunts, pulling on the leash to reveal the cutest brown cow I've ever seen. Striding into the room, he rounds the dining table, coming right toward me.

Everyone is staring at him dumbfounded, especially as he stops in front of me, extending the leash toward me.

"For you," he nods.

My lashes flutter in confusion.

"What?"

When I don't take the leash from him, he grabs my hand and places it in my open palm.

"It is for you."

"I don't understand." I frown.

"It is a cow," he mentions, his lips compressing.

"I can see it's a cow, but why would you give me a cow?" I ask, still confused.

"It is a cow from your world. For you. To eat."

I stare at him in disbelief.

"You... You brought me a cow?"

"A good cow." He nods. "It was the most expensive cow in your world."