Melia sat in a small cart and watched Rive handle the reins with practiced ease.
His straight black hair looked nothing like his older brother’s unruly blond hair.
Cassian must have taken after their mother.
She had offered to drive, but since both the horse and the cart belonged to the manor, she had left the reins to Rive.
Although he was a nobleman’s son, he had been made to learn many things other noble boys were rarely taught.
The cart was loaded with all sorts of things Melia and Rive had secretly gathered from their homes to help Venya, the forest spirit woman.
Melia didn’t fully understand why she wanted to help her when she hardly knew the woman.
She only knew that if she were alone in a strange place, she would hope someone would help her.
Still, she couldn’t help wondering.
What if Venya wasn’t here after all?
The cart rattled around the final bend, and the old, abandoned inn came into view.
“Whoa!
Hold on, Melia!” Rive said, pulling sharply on the reins.
The cart veered toward the edge of the road, and one wheel dropped into a rut.
The horse let out a startled whinny as the cart jolted so hard that Melia nearly fell off.
“Careful,” she shouted, giving him a light smack on the shoulder, but Rive only laughed.
“You always drive too fast,” Melia continued.
She jumped down from the cart and went to open the gate.
The crooked gate scraped against the ground as Melia pushed it open.
The yard inside was almost completely covered in tall grass and weeds.
Only small patches of the stone path showed through.
Rive stopped the cart beside the stone steps, making it easy to carry the supplies up onto the patio.
They had really done it.
They had brought everything all the way here without anyone stopping them.
Her satisfaction lasted only a heartbeat.
Maybe Mother would notice the missing food before evening.
Worse, her sister Talia might discover the other missing items.
Talia rarely got angry, but when she did… A shiver ran down Melia’s spine.
Most of the cart’s load had come from Rive.
Melia had asked him to find old, worn blankets, towels, and other household things.
The manor had a large household and plenty of such things, so there was less chance anyone would notice.
Once they had carried Melia’s things onto the stone patio at the top of the stairs, they began unloading the rest.
Melia picked up a neat stack of folded linens, including several bedspreads and towels.
“Are these brand-new?” “No.
They’re a little dirty.
I took them straight from my room.” “We were supposed to take old, worn things no one would miss.” “I didn’t like the color.
I won’t miss them.” Rive pulled two copper pots from the cart.
“These are completely useless.
Look, this one even has a dent.” “Tomorrow, there’s going to be an uproar in the manor kitchen,” Melia muttered to herself.
Someone would certainly notice their disappearance.
“Don’t women always need things like these?” Rive asked, lifting a silver hairbrush and its matching mirror from the cart.
Melia’s jaw dropped.
“Rive, those are silver.
Have you lost your mind?” “Ugh, what am I supposed to do with them?
Aunt Edith gave them to me.” Melia rolled her eyes.
Aunt Edith had surely imagined that Rive could give them to his future wife, but she decided to keep her mouth shut * Inside the inn, Venya lay curled up in a tight ball in the far corner of the bed.
Cold sweat beaded on her forehead as she wondered whether the dark shape from her dream had been real after all.
She clutched the hem of her dress tightly between her fingers.
Then she heard two voices beyond the door, raised in a heated argument.
One was lower.
A man’s?
Venya couldn’t make out the words, but the other, high and agitated, was unmistakably Melia’s.
Her grip on the hem of her dress loosened.
She scrambled off the bed, yanked the door open, and rushed into the hall.
“Melia!” she shouted.
The girl noticed her immediately.
“Venya!” Melia called back, beaming.
Melia’s dress had become quite dirty since their last meeting, and a dark smudge marked one cheek.
Her red curls were completely tangled, and her scarf had disappeared altogether.
Beside her stood a black-haired boy a head taller than Melia.
He seemed to be about the same age.
He had a slight build of a boy who had not yet filled out.
When the boy noticed Venya, he raised the two copper pots and said something with obvious pride.
Melia held a leather waterskin in one hand and a small oil lamp in the other.
She placed them on the floor, and the boy set the copper pots beside them.
Melia spoke quickly, pointing in turn at the things, Venya, and the front door.
Then she grabbed Venya by the sleeve and gestured for her to follow.
The boy nodded eagerly and pointed outside too.
Melia had introduced him as Rive.
Venya followed them to the front door and found the patio covered in piles of supplies.
Melia thrust a blanket into Venya’s arms and pointed to the small horse and cart, which was still partly loaded.
The blanket felt heavy in Venya’s arms.
Melia and Rive had gathered all of this for her.
She pressed one hand to her chest and bowed, though she didn’t know whether the gesture was enough to show how much it meant to her.
By the time evening began to fall, Melia and Rive had already left for the village, and the inn had grown quiet again.
One of the candles they had brought burned in a clay holder, filling the room with soft, dim light.
They had stacked the food, dishes, and other supplies in the smaller section that might once have been a washroom.
Tomorrow, she would have to sort through everything, inspect more of the inn, and clean whatever rooms were safe enough to use.
After she had cleaned the bed frame, using as little water as possible, she had layered several of Rive’s blankets over the bare bed to make it softer, saving the thickest one to cover herself.
For the first time that day, she felt warm and comfortable.
She pulled the blanket up to her chin and stared at the ceiling, thinking about the help she’d received from people who had no reason to care about her at all.
Kindness like that was still strange to her.
It felt almost cruel that she would have to leave this dream and wake up tomorrow in her own bed to the sound of her phone alarm.
As sleep began to take her, her fingertips found the bump on her head, still tender where it pressed against the pillow.
Maybe the villagers would give her a friendlier welcome next time.
Behind the inn, the forest had already sunk into darkness.
Deep among the bushes, a metallic glimmer passed over a shifting coat, and a smaller shape moved beside it.
Two pairs of eyes watched the candlelight shining through the inn’s window until Venya blew the candle out.