Arthur volunteered for the deliveries as soon as Brandt finished listing the day’s orders.
His father looked at him for a moment with a surprised expression, then nodded.
“All right.
There are three deliveries in different areas.
If you do them all, there’s no need for you to come back before evening.”
It was exactly what Arthur wanted.
He left the shop with the light cart and a sense of relief mixed with tension.
Staying away from Tessa, at least for a few hours, seemed like the only sensible thing.
After the conversation the evening before, every glance from his sister weighed too much.
Every silence in the house seemed full of unspoken questions.
The first delivery was at a workshop near the market.
It went smoothly.
He handed over the package, exchanged a few words, and left quickly.
While walking toward the second destination, he kept his head down and his shoulders slightly hunched, trying to take up as little space as possible.
The loose shirt helped hide the shape of his chest, but every now and then the fabric clung to him uncomfortably, reminding him how much he had changed.
The sweet scent followed him.
It was no longer something he could ignore.
Every time the wind changed direction he was afraid someone behind him would notice it.
No one made any comments, but the paranoia did not lessen.
During the journey he gave space to his thoughts.
The percentage was at 54%.
The changes of Phase 1 were by now evident if someone had observed him carefully, especially without clothes.
The breasts were taking shape, the hips had softened, the skin was perfect in a way that did not belong to him.
And Tessa had already noticed the scent and the behavior.
He touched his neck distractedly, then immediately withdrew his hand.
Even that gesture was becoming too obvious a habit.
The second delivery took him to a quieter area near the merchants’ houses.
While waiting for the customer to check the goods, he remained silent, hands clenched at his sides.
The man talked about prices and future delivery times, but Arthur only heard the beating of his own heart and the constant sensation of the fabric against skin that was too sensitive.
When he finally moved away, he drew a longer breath.
It was working.
Being outside helped him.
Away from Tessa’s gazes he could pretend a little better, or at least delude himself that he was.
The third delivery was the farthest: a small artisan workshop near the eastern gate of the city.
The journey was long and gave him even more time to think.
He walked at a steady pace, avoiding the more crowded streets when he could.
Every now and then he stopped to check that the shirt was properly arranged, that nothing looked too obvious.
He wondered how much longer he could continue like this.
Avoiding.
Lying.
Hoping that no one would ask the right question at the wrong moment.
The curse had not stopped.
It had only slowed down.
And he knew that sooner or later Phase 1 would end, bringing changes even harder to hide.
He arrived at his destination, delivered the package, and received the payment.
The customer thanked him without much attention.
Arthur nodded and started back.
The sun was beginning to set.
The shadows lengthened between the houses.
He walked more slowly now, partly from tiredness and partly because he did not feel like returning home too early.
It was while he was crossing a side square, less busy at that hour, that he saw her.
Talia Greaves was speaking with a man near a cart of goods.
She wore a dark dress of simple but careful cut, her dark brown hair gathered with the usual precision.
When the man moved away, she turned and her grey eyes met Arthur’s.
For a moment they remained looking at each other from a distance.
Then Talia gave a small nod of her head and began to approach with a calm, decided step.
Arthur felt his stomach tighten.
He could not pretend he had not seen her.
He could not turn and leave without seeming even stranger.
He remained still, the empty cart beside him, while she covered the last meters that separated them.
Talia stopped at a polite distance, but her eyes studied him carefully.
It was not the distracted look of a simple greeting.
It was the same precise gaze as when she had found him sitting on the bench, and when she had come to the shop to check the order.
“Arthur,” she said simply.
The voice was calm, as always.
But there was something more attentive than usual.
Arthur swallowed.
“Talia.”
She tilted her head slightly, observing him for one second longer than would have been normal.
“Do you have a moment?”
The wind shifted her hair slightly.
Arthur’s sweet scent, light but present, spread in the air between them.
Talia made no comment.
For now.
She simply remained there, waiting for an answer, with that grey gaze that already seemed to have noticed more than Arthur was ready to explain.