Chapter 67

A street musician was playing an alluring melody on a bamboo flute as I passed by the market today. I didn't feel like going anywhere, for that matter. Elder Hilda was kind enough to invite me for tea again this afternoon, but I declined. Instead, I went out to wander. I followed the sizzle and aroma of food being cooked on open grills. The spices nearly overwhelmed my senses as I followed them.

Xen is making me eat green vegetables. The peas and broth truly felt like a burn on my taste buds. I miss bear and rabbit meat. I don't remember the taste of the ones I had the last time in Lunar Valley. Everything went downhill after that.

He has taken the roles of prisoner, healer, and caretaker quite seriously. Then he disappears like a ghost in the morning. Though he never breaks the promise of not leaving me alone at night, he adamantly refuses to talk to me until I tell him about my dreams. In truth, I spend a lot of time stewing in his silence. Anyone would want to know if someone woke up crying in their sleep, especially the person sleeping beside them. I don't blame him; his worry is in the right place. It is me who feels helpless in the face of my memories.

The rhythmic tapping of hammers from a nearby blacksmith's shop pulled me out of my thoughts. I found myself in front of the open grill. The man flipped the meat piece expertly. He had small, narrow eyes in proportion to his big, double-chinned face, yet his smile was warm as he saw me.

"Welcome, welcome! What would you like today, my lady?" The vendor asked me. I looked around, and although I hadn't planned on it, the food looked good. I watched as he chopped a piece of roasted lamb and conveniently wrapped it in a thin white sheet, put sauce over it, and handed it to the man standing beside me. He looked at me with a grin. "We have a variety of succulent meats to choose from. We have tender chicken, juicy lamb, and flavorful beef."

"Can you pack the roasted lamb for me like that?" I pointed it out. They didn't do it in Mortal Landing like this.

"Yes, why, of course. A half portion or full?"

"Half," I answered.

He quickly took the freshly roasted meat pieces and started to chop them. A strange warmth washed over me, and the odd cold feeling I had since Xen stopped talking to me vanished. It was as if someone was watching, and I glanced around only to see people passing by with baskets or their purchases, vendors haggling with their customers, the bleating of goats, and the clucking of chickens in a makeshift animal pen across the street.

"That would be 50 coppers," the vendor said. I turned, paid, took the parcel, and thanked him before moving ahead. The pieces of meat were crisp and tender enough. I quickly finished them halfway through.

I don't know what it is, but something about this village is familiar. At first, I thought it must be from my forgotten memories, but unfortunately, against my will, I remember everything. However, there's a hazy something under the veil of fog, something I have never experienced but is still here, somewhere deep in my consciousness. It hurts my head to look for it. I have taken it upon myself to explore the village, and as I stand by the village square, a wooden cartwheel rolls past me while I take in the scene around me after finishing my unplanned lunch.

Lost in thought, one minute I was standing on the ground, and the next moment, something crashed into me and knocked the wind out of me as I fall to the ground. Only then did I realize that somethone had fallen over me—a heap of brown that made a gruff noise. It was a lady. I grabbed her shoulder and tried to help her get up.

"I apologise; I was not looking where I was going." She sighed heavily as she straightened herself. Her voice was sweet, and she extended her hand. I hesitated for a few minutes before taking her bare hand with my gloved one.

"I hope you are not hurt!" She reached out to me in concern, and I didn't have enough time to pull back as I straightened my light blue dress and met her warm, sapphire-blue, almond-shaped eyes. Wait, I had seen her before.

Then her eyes widened in recognition. "Are you Lady Crescent?"

Lady Crescent? Is that what the unaware human folks are calling me? I didn't realize until now how used I was to be called Luna.

"Yes, and you are the chief lady," I finally said, recalling the conversation I had with Elder Hilda.

I looked at her sparkling eyes, raven hair, and young but not-so-young appearance. There were few soft features in a young lady, with some hard lines and defined cheekbones, but her embarrassed, flushed face didn't match that of a woman entering her forties.

"I should have seen where I was going, but I am terrible at balancing my two feet!"

"It is fine; I am not hurt," I reassured her, trying not to sound as confused as I felt at this moment. I looked at her heavy cloak, still too heavy for her delicate frame, and her dishevelled hair.

"Oh, thank goodness," she sighed in relief, clutching her heart. I looked down, and her basket was tumbled over, with little black ball-like things scattered around. She looked down.

"Oh, gods!" She bent down to gather them and put them back in the basket. "Oh, thank goodness, I haven't peeled them yet. Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to go back to the lake to get more!" She seemed to be talking to herself.

"Are you alright?" I bent down to help her gather her... "What is this?" I had never seen something like this before. They were small and shaped like rubies, with green and black hard skin.

"I am good. These are waternuts. They are the last of the winter harvest. I won't get them until the rain comes again," she said, looking genuinely saddened by the prospect.

She seemed to smile a lot, with absolute happiness glowing on her face. We put all of them in one basket.

"Well," she said, looking around as if checking if anyone noticed her. "It was a pleasure to meet you. I was really curious about you, but with the recent unfortunate event, it seems impolite to ask you for a leisurely afternoon tea. Oh well, maybe when we find the children's back..." The last part dimmed the light in her eyes marginally.

"Of course, Chief Lady," I politely said.

"Oh no, you can't call me that. It's too formal. Call me Se-wa," she suggested.

"Se-wa?" It came out as a question, but I nodded. "Then you must call me Rosette," I offered. She smiled warmly at me.

When I said I had never heard of waternuts, she took one out, peeled it open, and inside, it was white as milk. It tasted like rainwater, with a refreshing sweetness. She offered me some, saying it was compensation since she fell on me. I didn't know what would have been polite to do—refuse or accept it—but seeing her high spirit, I couldn't refuse.

After peeling a few waternuts back in our room at the guest house, my fingernails hurt, but the pain disappeared after I chewed the fruit of my hard labour. I got tired and didn't realise it until I fell asleep.

My last thought was, "Where is Xen?" But before that, I had a thought—there was no possibility of Se-wa marrying the chief twenty years ago. She looked far too young for it.

I opened my eyes as I heard the clanking of chains and the door opening. I looked around the room; my soiled cloak from the fall was on the trunk at the foot of our bed, and my boots were thrown across the room. The black peels of the waternuts were scattered on the desk. I reached for them to quickly clean them, but Xen was already standing over me.