Chapter 63

I watched as the rider disappeared on the forest trail. Xen squeezed my hand and looked back at me. He rubbed soothing circles on the back of my hand, his eyes meeting mine. I felt the unspoken reluctance between us. I didn't need him to tell me. I glanced at Elder Hilda, engrossed in a lively conversation with a woman around my age who cradled a child in her arms.

Clearing my throat, I looked down at our intertwined hands. But Xen pulled me closer, lacing our fingers together, and I felt every thread of electric pulse shoot up through my heartbeat as he leaned towards me. Somehow, this moment felt more intimate than what we shared last night. My eyes darted around, checking if anyone had noticed us.

"Look at me," he whispered.

I looked at him wide-eyed, my heart thundering in my chest.

"What are you scared of?" he asked, the familiar twinkle returning to his eyes. I sensed a bit of tension easing from his shoulders.

"Nothing," I said breathlessly.

He kissed my temple, and a jolt of warmth melted away my wary thoughts.

"Be careful; it's still an unknown place," he murmured in my ear. I nodded, understanding that there was a spy among us. Someone had been leaking information about the letters' destinations and origins.

"Do you trust Elder Hilda?" I asked, lowering my voice.

"She seems alright, but I want you to stay alert," he replied, meeting my gaze. His face drew closer, and for a moment, I lost myself in his eyes. How much had he been holding back? The boundaries I had set were now blurred, and I realized restraining himself for my comfort must have been difficult. His feelings for me were different from anything I had ever experienced.

Reluctantly, he let go of me after reminding me to stay alert once again. I reassured him that I would.

****

After treating a few patients, Elder Hilda insisted that I accompany her to the market for a stroll.

"I need to buy some eggs for dinner tonight; I hope you don't mind," she said.

"Of course not," I replied with a smile. It would do me good to be out, to distract myself from my thoughts confined to the guesthouse.

"Truthfully, I find your company quite refreshing," she remarked. I looked at her, trying not to frown or seem ungrateful. I was sure she was just being kind. I had offered nothing but hesitant smiles here and there. I couldn't engage in conversation as easily as she did. I could only reply appropriately, with the best timing I could manage. When was the last time I had a proper conversation with someone who truly knew me?

Sansa's name sent a shiver down my spine. Her dark skin, ink-dark hair, and golden-brown eyes came to mind. She was a friendly face, a familiar presence besides Xen. But it hurts me to remember her now.

Elder Hilda was saying something, pulling me from my thoughts. We stopped at a stall, and the bustling noise of the afternoon market invaded my mind. The village didn't appear as dreary as it did in the morning. Everyone seemed to have found an excuse to carry on, to work, and to move forward, regardless of the hardships.

"It was kind of you to come with me and offer comfort to the injured," Elder Hilda said. I hadn't been able to do much except offer a few kind words and reassurance on behalf of the wolves. I couldn't touch them or embrace their mothers. I felt quite inadequate in that role.

"I didn't do much," I replied, a hesitant smile on my lips.

"Know that what you're doing is enough. Despite your own worries, you manage to notice others' distress. That is more than enough," Elder Hilda said, trying to lay a comforting hand over mine. But on instinct, I stepped back, feeling a crippling energy creeping over me. It nearly weakened my knees. It had been a while since I felt this way. I glanced at Elder Hilda to see if she had noticed my withdrawal, but her gaze was fixed somewhere else.

I followed her line of sight a few stalls away. There stood a woman, older than me, picking over vegetables and engaging in light conversation with the vendor. Her brown hair framed her heart-shaped face delicately, and her brown eyes sparkled. Though her brown cloak was ordinary, she exuded an enchanting aura, and her milky white skin seemed untouched by the sun. She was strikingly beautiful.

"Who is she?" I asked the shopkeeper as he placed some eggs into Elder Hilda's basket.

"The chief's wife," he replied. I turned to Elder Hilda, who had a strange look in her eyes.

"I must say, she appears much younger," I commented.

A playful woman's voice chimed in as she glanced over the eggs and smiled at Hilda. "She sure is a beauty."

"Greetings, Elder Hilda," the woman said, turning her gaze toward me with a questioning expression.

"Oh, this is Rosette. She has traveled with her husband from Lunar Valley. They are the chief's special guests," Elder Hilda introduced.

"I am Martha," she smiled at me, and I returned a polite smile. "You haven't met the chief's wife yet."

"They arrived just a few days ago, and only a month has passed since their union," Elder Hilda teased, leaning in. I shifted uncomfortably, feeling a little uneasy.

Martha's brown eyes widened, accompanied by a playful smile.

"What is the chief's wife like?" I quickly redirected the conversation, knowing Martha to be someone who loved to talk about people.

"Oh, yes." Martha turned to look at her. The chief's wife had moved to a different stall, politely greeting everyone. She seemed to stumble a few times along the way.

"She looks young, but she was around my age when I was just eighteen years old," Martha said. "she first came to the village, she was reserved and didn't talk much. But the chief, who had just been appointed, was smitten at first sight. To this day, her beauty has never faded. I don't think the chief likes her going out much. It has been twenty years since they wed, and she still captivates everyone she encounters," Martha sighed wistfully.

"It's not the chief's fault if his wife is delicate," Elder Hilda defended.

"Oh, dear Hilda, you tried to help her, but she refused. It's not your fault." Martha patted Hilda's shoulder. Hilda didn't appear guilty or remorseful; instead, a glint, one I was all too familiar with, shimmered in her eyes. Hilda harbored bitterness towards something concerning the chief's wife.